Hidden
by silvershadowrebel
Summary: AU. Modern day fic. The Ranger Corps, after being kicked out by the government, has to work save President Duncan from an assassination plot. Will, Halt, Gil, Horace, and the others must save Cassandra and take out Morg and his plans with the help of Malcolm and his gang. T for violence and awesome espionage. And Will kicking ass.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Unseen by the public eye, there is a secret society named the Ranger Corps. A group of fifty secret agents keep an eye on the country. Aided by a team of headstrong women and genius teens, they work behind the scenes to keep the citizens safe. When they discover an assassination plot, they need to warn the government. The thing is, the government doesn't believe the Rangers, not after they kicked them out. It's up to the Rangers and their "apprentices" to save their country.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Ranger's Apprentice

Chapter One

_Someplace in the countryside_

A man walked into the cabin. He was husky and well-built, with a rough face and small, dark eyes. The smell of cigarette smoke lingered on him. His boots made loud footsteps on the wooden floor, like it was too much work to actually pick up his feet. The man's breath was raspy, and if you got too close, you could smell the alcohol.

He dropped a brown-wrapped package onto the polished wooden table piled high with papers and dirty dishes.

Another man, this one pale and painfully thin, looked up from his laptop across the room. His hair was straight and so pale it could have been white. There was no warmth in his eyes.

"You got the package?" he asked.

The husky man's beady eyes seemed to shoot lasers through the dusky room. "Of course I got it," he spat. "Who do you think I am, Morg?"

Morg eyed the other man. "I think," he said slowly and quietly, "that you don't have the ability or skill to complete the task."

"We'll see about that, won't we?"

"Indeed we will. Indeed we will. Don't disappoint me. Don't forget that I have access to this country's- how do they put it? Ah, yes- hostile devices."

The husky man glared at Morg and went down the stairs that led to the basement.

_In a government building_

Representative Arald walked purposefully to a black door at the end of the hallway. He opened the door, and bowed his head respectfully to President Duncan.

"Good afternoon, Arald," the president greeted from behind his desk. The room was decorated with a homey feel to it, like it still held the president's wife's soul in it.

"And the same to you, President," Arald replied.

"Well, Arald, what brings you here today?" Duncan leaned back in his chair. President Duncan and Representative Arald were close friends. Duncan often consulted Arald on tough decisions, and found it easy to confide in his old friend.

Arald took a seat on the other side of the desk. "Not much," Arald responded. "I just thought it would be nice to catch up. We've been so caught up in political matters that we haven't had any private time."

Duncan smiled sadly. "That does tend to happen when you hold the highest seat in the country. You can't exactly hide from the public."

Almost subconsciously, the two men glanced at the empty chair beside Arald. A small sigh escaped into the air.

"I sure do miss Halt," Arald commented.

"'M," Duncan agreed. "He always did cheer up our day with that gloomy face of his." The two cracked a smile. The smile lasted a few seconds before being replaced by two small frowns. "But he chose his path."

Arald shook his head. "I still don't see what he had to gain from that choice. Speaking of which, have you heard anything about them lately?"

"As a matter of fact, I haven't. I wonder what they're up to."

"Technically, they're not supposed to be up to anything," Arald pointed out, almost disapprovingly.

Duncan sighed and massaged his temples. "I know they're not supposed to be doing anything, but do you really think Halt would just disappear like that? Besides, that group has never fully followed the rules."

Arald nodded. "True." A silence elapsed between them, only broken by the intercom sitting on President Duncan's desk. "Sir," a voice said.

Duncan groaned slightly. "Yes, Walter."

"The Ambassador from Skandia is here. Can you meet him now?"

"Oh, goody," Duncan muttered. "Alright. I'll be there in ten minutes."

"Yes, sir."

Duncan slumped back. "I swear, every day, I get another gray hair. Do you see this?" He leaned forward to show Arald his graying head. "See?"

Arald laughed. "I don't need you to lean forward. I can see it perfectly fine from where I am," he jibed.

Duncan laughed as well. "Oh, you are asking for it, Arald."

_In an undisclosed location_

The sound of rapid-fire artillery filled the air and a human cutout got butchered by bullets. Then the shots slowed and bullets appeared in other figures, the shooter never aiming at the same one twice. Not a single bullet has missed, and most were clustered around the heart, head, or other vital organs.

Unnoticed by the shooter, a man stood by the entrance of the practice room. He was on the smaller side, for a man, with a steady stance and grizzled appearance. He wore a dark gray hoodie and loose dark washed jeans. The hood of his sweatshirt hid his eyes. He watched the shooter, staying totally silent and not moving. When the shooter finished the round, he clapped his hands.

"Not bad," he said. "Not bad at all."

The shooter spun around, startled by the voice. He relaxed when he noticed who it was.

"Halt," he complained, "Why do you keep doing that? You know how creepy it is."

Halt chuckled slightly. "So when your enemy creeps up behind you and startles you, you think he'll let you recover first, then attack you?"

The shooter flapped his hand carelessly. "I bet none of them are as silent as you." The shooter was not old, at all. In fact, he was about sixteen or seventeen, still high school age. He had brown hair that covered his eyebrows and warm chocolaty eyes. They were full of youth and humor, alight with mirth.

The boy's name was Will, and he was training under Halt. If the Ranger Corps was still part of the government, his official title would be "Juvenile Trainee". Now, he was just an apprentice. Halt was his mentor and fatherly figure.

Halt shook his head. "Will, Will, Will. What am I going to do with you, Will?"

"Not kill me?" Will suggested hopefully, but there was a hint of a smile in his lips.

Unseen by Will, Halt rolled his eyes. "Come," he ordered, leading the way out of the training room. Will hurriedly put the safety catch on the gun he had been using, and stored it safely before rushing to catch up with his mentor.

Together they walked up the stairs and entered the main floor of the house. It was small albeit bright and cheery. Flowers in the windowsill was a given. That was one weakness of Halt. He always liked fresh flowers. There was a figure sitting at the kitchen table, sitting just so, so that he was just in front of the sun, making it hard to see him.

"I thought I told you not to lean back on my chairs," Halt said sourly.

The figure laughed. "You never changed, Halt."

"Gil?" Will asked incredulously. "What are you doing here?"

"I can leave if you want," Gil offered, voice full of humor, pretending to stand up.

"No, no!" Will protested hurriedly. "I'm jut surprised to see you, is all."

Gil laughed again and stood up to give Will a man hug. Will grinned but repeated his question. "So what are you doing here?"

"He came to see me, of course," Halt said. "He just missed me so much."

"Really?"

Gil and Halt rolled their eyes. "You're so gullible, it's funny," Gil said. "I came, because we have a mission. For you."

"Me?" Will pointed at himself.

"No, for me," Halt replied sarcastically. "Yes, for you."

"Awesome!" Will exclaimed. What is it?" Will was anxious for another mission. In his short career, he'd already been on two missions: one to recover a stolen piece of information. It didn't seem like much, but it had resulted into an international hunt. The other was to decimate a serial killer who was wrecking havoc on the city of Redmont.

"Well," Halt took over, "before your ego gets too inflated, just know that we would have preferred to use Gilan here." Before Will could react, he continued. "But, the problem is, Gil was training to become a Ranger back when we were still part of the government. So they will remember him. But they don't know you exist."

"So?"

"So, we want you to infiltrate the Capitol building. There is a microchip that they have and we need. We think you're qualified enough to recover it for us."

"Me? Alone?" Will's voice rose in pitch.

"Remember that training session I had you do, where you had to stay in a building for an hour with security guards and cameras and not get caught?" Will nodded. "Well, it'll be just like that, but with higher stakes. Just make sure you don't get caught. We wouldn't want your career ending before you got your ring, would we?"

Gil patted Will's shoulder. "You'll do fine."

"I hope so," Will muttered.

**So, how was that? Confusing? It should be at this point. Stuff will unravel over time, though. **

**On a different note, should I continue this story? Is it good? Is it crap?**

**Tell me in a review!**

**-Silver out.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for the reviews! They were really appreciated. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Ranger's Apprentice, or Lucas from Seaquest DSV (I'm borrowing him for this story.)**

Chapter Two

Cassandra, the daughter of President Duncan, knew she was in trouble. She knew it in her father's usually calm expression. His brow was furrowed and his mouth was set in a straight line. Cassandra pretended to be unperturbed by it by playing with her cell phone.

"Cassandra," President Duncan sighed. "How many times do I have to tell you that you can't just disappear?"

"Cassandra rolled her eyes and looked up from her phone. "I'm not _disappearing_," she used finger quotes, "Is it really too much to ask for some privacy?"

Duncan sighed. "There's a reason you have guards and agents watching you. There are people out there who would love to have custody of the president's daughter. So if you keep running off, that's putting your guards into deep water."

"Well it's not like I _asked_ for the guards. Or to be the president's daughter. In fact, I'd like to get away from all this stuffy _political_ crap," Cassandra retorted.

Duncan put his hands on the desk. "I know what you want and don't want. I was a teenager, too, at one point. I know you want freedom. But you're putting your guards in a sticky situation. They could lose their jobs because of you." Cassandra opened her mouth to say something, but her father continued without pausing. "So, we've decided to switch the jobs up a bit. Kerry and Jackson will be going into fieldwork, like they've been asking for for ages. Your new guards will be Peyson and Horace."

Cassandra felt her cheeks flush. "H-Horace?" she stuttered. When Duncan nodded, she protested. "B-but, why? You know I can't keep up a conversation with him."

Duncan smiled slightly. "Well, you won't have to talk to him, will you? 'He's just a guard'," he quipped, quoting something Cassandra had said the last time they'd had this conversation. "He's meant to see without being seen."

"Until his reasoning becomes hunger-over-mind," the teenager muttered.

This time, Duncan really did smile. "We'll make sure he's fed enough," he reassured his daughter.

Cassandra stood up. "Great. Are we done?"

Duncan nodded, and Cassandra exited the office with a quick "Bye, Dad!". She made her way through the building, ignoring the Secret Service agents swarming the area like ants. _They're supposed to be _Secret_ Service, but by the way they walk around like they own the place, their attempts at hiding are about as successful as an elephant in a school,_ Cassandra noted as she walked down a hallway. She was about to turn into another hallway, when she noticed Horace. She quickly veered away and went down a different hallway.

Cassandra wasn't sure why she acted like a fangirl around Horace. I mean, sure, he was handsome. Stunningly so. He was only a few years older than Cassandra, fresh out of the training school. He was well built, and a grin was always ready on his face. He was nice, but sort of intimidating. The young agent had a certain natural swagger to him, but was about as modest as a the next person. Even more so, depending on the next person.

Horace's dark shades concealed his cheerful eyes, but that was probably what caused Cassandra to blush the most. She tried to avert her eyes whenever he was around.

Alright. Cassandra had a crush on her new security guard. She could have picked any boy in the world, but of course, she had to fall for someone who would probably never even notice her. He probably just thought of her as a job, something he had to complete before her could move up to the next step.

Cassandra hated being a figure of importance.

Line Break-Line Break- Line Break

Halt, Will, and Gil walked into the Ranger headquarters. It was a grand mansion stuck in the middle of a grand private estate nicknamed the Gathering Grounds. It was like a beehive- the Rangers reported here, got their missions here, and some even lived here. They'd had to move their headquarters after the government had banned them. Previously, it had been situated in one of the government buildings. Now, it was in a wealthy suburb located close to the center of the country.

Inside the old house, Halt led the two younger men to the Commandment's office. Crowley was a long-time friend of Halt, and enjoyed the company of Gilan and Will.

Crowley looked up from his paperwork as the three walked in. Halt didn't bother to knock- he never did. In their world, people who knocked were either unsure of themselves or had an evil plan up their sleeves. Plus, Halt just didn't like following the rules.

"Halt!" Crowley greeted, standing up to embrace the old comrade. He noticed the other two. "And Gilan, and Will! Well, I knew you'd be here, Will, but Gilan, this is quite a surprise."

Gil grinned easily. "Surprising people is my specialty," he said. It was the truth. Gil had a way of moving, even existing, without being noticed. It would come quite as a shock to people when he would suddenly talk.

Crowley smiled back. "Please, everyone, take a seat for a minute." They sat down. "I'm assuming you're here to be debriefed about your mission?"

Will nodded nervously. This was big. This was even more dangerous than his previous two missions. If he got caught, who knows what they would do to him.

"Well, obviously, you know what you have to do: retrieve a microchip from the hands of the federal government. Wow, I sound like I _am_ the federal government." He shivered slightly. "Anyway, basically what you have to do is get in there, steal the chip thingy, and get out without being seen. Capiche?"

Will nodded.

Crowley continued. "We'll supply you with some stuff, but you obviously can't take any weapons into the building. We've worked some things out to get you in there. Come, follow me." He stood up and led the trio out of the room. They walked down a few flights of stairs, into the sub-levels below the building. In the sub-levels, the Corps' brain worked. People who weren't Rangers worked here- some were computer geeks, others were diplomats, and yet others were allies still in the government.

The small party entered a room filled with computers and blinking lights. Three teenagers sat at separate desks, each controlling their own center. The first person they went to was Lucas, a brown haired, seventeen year old genius who had been looking for a bit of adventure in his life. He sensed the group and turned around in his chair, a slightly cocky smirk playing on his lips.

"Hey Will," he greeted his friend. Will nodded back. He was too nervous for pleasantries. Lucas continued. "Crowley, Halt, Gilan." In turn, they each replied with a simple "hey".

Crowley leaned onto Lucas's desk. "So what have you got for Will's mission?"

Lucas scowled at Crowley's hands and pushed them off the desk before continuing. "Well, I temporarily changed the files of Martonville High School, so you are now currently enrolled in the sophomore class. Your History class is taking a field trip to the capitol, to tour the buildings and all that crap. So somehow, you are going to need to blend in with a bunch of high schoolers." Lucas smiled. "Good luck with that. So then, after you get inside the Intelligence Building, Horace will be there to take you to the room where they keep all the files." He opened up a window in the computer and gestured at the official-looking paper. "I got you a 'VIP pass' to tour the building. After you get in there, it's all up to you to get out." He turned back around to face the agents. "Easy enough, right?"

Will snorted. "Easy if you just get to sit here."

"Anyway," Crowley cleared his throat, "what do you think we can supply Will with for the mission?"

Lucas turned back to his computer. "Well, we've got a few interesting things. If you go down to the supply room, they'll give you your VIP pass. They also created a wristwatch that... well, I'll let them explain. We've also modified a digital camera to use as night vision and the flash thingy shoots a laser, if you should need it. And if all else fails, we've given you a water bottle with acid in it. Try not to use it. And don't drink it, for God's sake."

Gilan nodded appreciatively. "They didn't give me stuff like that when I was an apprentice."

Lucas snorted. "That's because I wasn't here."

Halt shot the teenager a look. "Don't let it get to your head."

They said goodbye to Lucas, and headed to another room. This was the Supply Room. It provided Rangers with weapons and tools of all sorts, ranging from guns and silencers to paper clips (you'd be surprised by how easy it is to break into a house with a paper clip).

Old Bob, an aging albeit cheery man, greeted them. He showed them the weapons Will would be using. The pass was simple enough. The water bottle with acid had been filled and resealed (it's called heat, folks), so it would make it past security. One benefit of having once been part of the government was that they knew all the different security and precautions.

Old Bob demonstrated to will how to use the camera, so he didn't accidentally burn a hole through an innocent person. Then he gave Will the watch.

"See this watch? See th' detail? Pu' it on so it's over your knuckles." Will obliged. "Now adjust the time." Will pulled the little knob out, and with a mechanical _click_, the metal of the wristband expanded and contracted so that Will was wearing brass knuckles with a clock face in the middle.

"Sweet," Will murmured appreciatively.

Old Bob cackled. "Brand new design, tha' one there. Top o' the line."

Crowley clapped Will on the shoulder. "Well, Will, I think you are ready to go kick some government ass."

What they weren't aware of was that Horace's job had been switched recently.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey there. Long time no write. **

**I just want to say thank you to those who reviewed :)**

**Disclaimer: Will does not belong to me. **

Chapter Three

Will swallowed nervously and ran a hand through his hair. All around him, kids his age chattered and laughed.

He swallowed again.

This school bus definitely had the heat on, Will decided as he swiped a sweaty hand across his forehead.

He noticed that his armpits were getting wetter and wetter the closer they got to the Intelligence Building. Finally, the yellow bus pulled into a parking spot in front of the grandeur building. The kids piled out. Will squeezed himself between two boys in the middle of the group, as to remain as inconspicuous as possible. They crowded at the entrance while the chaperons passed out the student passes.

"Make sure you have you bags out and ready to be checked!" one of the teachers called out over the din. Very few people actually heeded his directions. Will took out his forged VIP pass. The crowd began to move slowly toward the doors of the building.

The students moved into several lines at the security check in stations. Will chose the line with a young woman. He had studied her body language from a distance and decided that she was new on the job and wouldn't be so confident when searching bags. If she thought there was a threat when there wasn't and alerted an elder, not only would it be humiliating, but it would lower her self-confidence. Therefore, she wouldn't be as suspicious of the things Will carried.

The line crawled along, until Will finally reached the table. He took off his watch and handed it to the guard and walked through the metal detector. The guard opened his bag and poked through it. Not seeing any imminent danger (think: grenades, bombs, guns, angry cats, etc.), she passed it along and Will grabbed it, sliding his watch back on. Then he showed another guard his pass, who waved him along.

Now Will had to keep an eye out for Horace. He was supposed to show him to the Data Room. True, Will had memorized a map of the building before getting on the bus this morning, but it would look slightly strange and suspicious of a fifteen year old kid was found walking around alone, trying to get into the Data Room.

These were the times when Will hated being short. He had to stand on tiptoe to see over some of the taller kids. It made him feel younger than he actually was, and he felt a slight blush rise on his cheeks.

Not seeing Horace by the time he was supposed to leave, Will shrugged and decided he had to improvise until Horace got there. It wouldn't be the first time Horace was late for something. He followed the crowd of students into the first room of the tour. This was the room for preliminary investigations.

The guide droned on about information Will already knew. As they passed an empty desk, Will covertly sneaked a paper clip into his pocket. You never know when a paper clip might come in handy.

They walked into another room. Will scanned his mental map. Currently they were getting closer to the Data Room. He observed the room itself, noticing the hidden cameras in the walls, the occasional "worker" who was actually a security guard in disguise.

Will glanced at his watch. The time was ticking down until the moment that Lucas would intercept the security monitors so Will had free access into the Data Room. He glanced around. Still no sign of Horace. Will was starting to get worried.

The minutes seemed to be on fast forward. Horace never showed up. Will realized he had to improvise. As the tour group started circling back to the entrance, Will took a different exit, in the direction of the Data Room. He felt it was safe to assume that Lucas had succeeded in screwing up the security.

Will quietly made his way down the hallway. At one point, two agents exited a room and began walking straight towards where Will was located. Thinking quickly, Will darted into an open doorway. The light in the room was off, so Will had no idea where he was.

"Did you just see something?" Will heard one of the agents mutter. The other one grunted.

Their footsteps got louder as they neared Will. Will's heart began beating wildly. This wasn't some practice operation. If he failed, there'd be no Halt at the end to scold him and critique his actions. No. If he failed, he'd be in big trouble, probably go to prison, and he'd blow the cover of the Rangers. Not something you'd exactly want on your resume.

Thinking quickly, Will retreated farther into the room. He fingered the wristwatch lightly.

The two agents appeared in the doorway, blocking the light from the hall. One of them made a hand signal to the other. They quickly dispersed in opposite directions.

_You are the shadows. People only see what they expect to. _

Well, right now they're expecting to see someone, Will thought. Thanks, Halt.

_Any slight movement can give you position away._

Will gathered some comfort in Halt's voice in his mind. It was almost like Halt was next to him, guiding him. It gave him more confidence.

_Don't stay trained on the same thing. Keep your eyes and eyes open._

Will's eyes darted around the dark room, trying to see something, anything at all. He listened intently for any sounds of movement at all. Within half a minute, Will was rewarded with a slight scuffle to his extreme left. Slowly, very slowly, Will loosened his knees into a crouch. Shifting his weight onto his pivot foot, he carefully lifted the other foot and brought it in the direction of the door. He continued this walk, switching pivot feet, for about five feet.

Will's visibility was a bit better, and he could see a slightly disfigured silhouette of a man. He had no idea where the other agent was. Will took a silent breath and sneaked up behind the first agent.

Will acted quickly, placing one hand on the agent's back and the other over his mouth. Then he quickly twisted the agent's head, snapping it to the side and knocking the older man out. The man didn't have any time to react, slumping into Will's awaiting arms. Will gently lowered the man to the floor, wincing when there was a slight _thump_ when one of the agent's hands slid off his body and hit the floor.

"Emertson?" The voice came from a dark part of the room. Will debated replying, but then remembered that these were agents, and probably knew each other's voices. He opted to remain silent. Instead, he prepared for a fight, pulling out the knob on the wristwatch. He felt the cool metal slide out to cover his knuckles.

"Emertson? Are you okay?" the voice was right behind Will, catching him by surprise. Reacting quickly, he spun on his heel, bringing his armored hand up to make contact with the other man. Unfortunately, the man had been expecting something and jumped back, away from the flying fist. He retaliated by sweeping his leg around, trying to uproot Will. Will jumped over the leg and readied his fists.

Agent Two, as Will had started to call him, reached into his pocket and pulled out a sleek-looking walkie-talkie. He didn't get to say anything before Will jumped him, knocking away the contact device. They fell to the floor, each trying to get the upper hand.

Agent Two grunted with frustration. "Who are you?" he asked as he landed a punch to Will's gut.

"No one you care about," Will replied, slamming his knuckles into the Agent's ribs. The agent grunted yet again, but this time in pain. Will attempted to stand up, but Agent Two grabbed his ankle and pulled him back down. The agent tried to choke him, but Will threw him off. Using his back and legs muscles, he stood up and crouched into a defensive position. Agent Two came up to him, and they exchanged punches, darting around and circling each other. Neither could get the upper hand.

Will was starting to get nervous. This hadn't been part of the plan. He was on a schedule. Lucas could only control the systems for so long, until they realized that someone was toying with them.

"Just die already!" Will cried out exasperatedly. He swung his fist at the agent, making contact the the man's temple. The agent was out cold before you could say _wow_. Will paused to catch his breath before darting out of the room, closing and locking the door behind him. He pushed the knob back in, and the bronze knuckles returned to watch form.

Trying to look casual, Will strolled down the corridor, all the while staying attentive for any signs that the government had figured out that someone had infiltrated their most secure building. He also kept his eyes peeled for any signs that read _Data Room_.

Will did a mental celebratory dance when he successfully found the room without any more trouble. Looking around quickly, he tried the door. Locked, of course. That was what Will had expected, but you never knew. Half the doors in the headquarters weren't actually locked, they just looked like they were to discourage people. Obviously that hadn't been the case for Will.

Will bit his lip thoughtfully as he studied the lock. It required a card swipe, then a password. Will nearly slapped himself for his stupidity. Of course! He should have just gotten a card from one of the agents he'd knocked out.

Retracing his steps quickly, he retrieved a card from one of the lifeless bodies without any resistance or trouble. Will swiped the card through the lock, earning a little green light from it. Next to the door, a keyboard popped out of the wall. Will frowned at it sourly. Why couldn't Lucas be here, with his genius brain? He would have to improvise.

Will reached into his backpack and pulled out the digital camera. He pointed it at the doorknob and turned on the laser. The smell of metal melting filled the air. Before long, Will had burned a small hole into the door. He turned off the camera, put it into his backpack, and pulled out the paper clip from his pocket.

Several frustrating minutes later, Will grinned in satisfaction as the door swung open. He slipped inside, and stared in awe at the monstrous room. Computers blinked. Shelves as high as the ceiling were full of documents and boxes with CLASSIFIED printed on the sides. Industrial lighting put everything into harsh relief. For some strange reason, there were no agents in the room. It was as if they had known Will was coming and had all left.

Suspiciously, he crept down an aisle labeled Q-T. Reaching the R's, Will scanned the files. He found RANGER CORPS printed on the side of a box. Underneath that were the words INACTIVE and LEVEL 7 CLASSIFICATION. Biting his lip, he pulled the box off of the shelf. Opening it, he found the box chock full of documents, reports, pictures, biographies, and many more things. Shuffling a few things around, he found the USB stick he had come for. Pocketing it quickly, he replaced the papers and pushed the box back onto the shelf.

Just as Will was about congratulate himself for success so far, the alarm began blaring.

They had found the bodies.

Line Break- Line Break- Line Break

_In the countryside_

Morg smiled evilly as he watched he video clips. Personally, he was surprised that his idiotic companions had been this successful. Of course, he couldn't tell his henchmen that. Nothing to make them think that he actually approved of them.

Morg's cold eyes glinted in amusement as he watched the next clip. It was of Cassandra, walking down an alleyway, completely oblivious that someone was watching her. There were no bodyguards around. Cassandra's rebellious attitude made his job so much easier.

The man's laptop made a small _ding_, alerting him that he had to be somewhere in ten minutes. Morg sighed as he shut the laptop and grabbed his coat. He grabbed an apple on his way out the door to yet another boring senate meeting.

**Haha! So Will's in trouble, Morg(arath) is actually in the government, and Cassandra's in danger! What shall happen next? Stay tuned and review!**

**-Silver out.**


	4. Chapter 4

**I honestly have nothing to say for this chapter. I'm suffering from a major case of writer's block.**

**Disclaimer: Mr. Flanagan lives in Australia. I do not.**

Chapter Four

Will had to think quickly. Faintly, he could hear footsteps over the blaring alarm. He flipped the head of his sweatshirt up so it partially hid his face, then headed towards an emergency exit. Will pulled out his laser camera and aimed it at one of the security cameras over the door.

From the corner of his eye, Will could have sworn he'd seen something move. The glimpse of a shadow. Will tensed. He activated his brass knuckles and crept silently around the corner.

On the opposite side of the aisle, a government agent crouched in a defensive position.

_Always attack first._

Will took Halt's words of advice and pounced on the agent. The agent, expecting an attack, threw the attacker off like a rag doll. Will hit the ground a few feet away, quickly scrambling to his feet. He took up a similar defensive position. They circled each other, neither wanting to make the first move.

With one hand, Will reached into his backpack and pulled out the water bottle filled with diluted acid. In a split second, he had opened the top and prepared to dump the liquid on the agent. Before the enemy agent could react, Will ran towards him, yelling what he took as a fierce battle cry. He held the water bottle on top of the man's head and let the liquid come out.

The agent did not react the way Will had expected.

The older agent simply stared in confusion at the teenager. He was soaking wet, but had not collapsed in pain. Will glanced at the label on the water bottle. Oops. It was the water bottle with actual water in it, not the lethal one. Will reached into his backpack again and pulled out the other bottle.

Will smiled at the agent. "My bad. I meant to do this," he said as he dumped the acid on the man. Within a couple of seconds, the man had collapsed, screaming in pain. Will felt a satisfying crunch as his knuckles collided with the man's temple. The man slumped over, unconscious.

The acid wouldn't cause much damage. It would destroy the skin, at most, but it would affect any of the man's vital organs. The Ranger Corps wasn't that cruel.

Not wasting any time, Will destroyed the fire alarm built into the emergency exit with a well-executed kick and escaped out the door. The bright sunlight blinded him for a minute before he was able to see.

Will sighed internally. Police and government cars surrounded the block. Near the front of the entrance to the building, the class on the field trip stood grouped together while several police officers questioned the chaperons.

Behind him, several voices could be heard as the other agents found the unconscious, acid-covered man.

Will's day had just gotten so much worse. At least he had what he'd come for.

_In President Duncan's office_

President Duncan pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. Why was his job so difficult? He had just found out about the break-in in the Intelligence Building.

Looking up, Duncan watched the video clip again. The camera had been situated on the wall opposite to the emergency exit in the Data Room. It displayed a grainy picture of two men- one was his own, the other was much shorter and dressed in a dark sweatshirt that hid his face. He watched as the enemy poured something on his man, and the agent fell to the ground. Then the enemy left through the emergency exit without setting of the emergency alarm.

This wasn't the work of any enemy agency. This was the work of the Ranger Corps. A little sloppy, yes, but still successful. Duncan wondered what the Corps had come for. Obviously something to do with them, otherwise they wouldn't risk such an intense operation.

There was a knock on the door.

"Come in," the president called.

The door opened to admit Senator Arald. He was very grim faced.

"I assume you heard about the break in?" the senator asked his friend. Duncan nodded morosely.

"Of course."

"Well, the CEO of ISD just informed me that two other agents were taken out in a side room on the way to the Data Room."

"Dammit," Duncan muttered under his breath. ISD was short for Intelligence and Surveillance Division, the government intelligence agency. "You do realize who did this, right?" he looked up at his comrade.

Arald but his lip. "Well, I had my suspicions," he began.

"Arald, be honest with yourself. You and I both know it was the Rangers."

Arald looked down. It was embarrassing to admit that an ex-agency was able to break through their security like it was a game. "But how?"

"What?" Duncan asked in confusion.

"How could they have gotten past our defenses so easily? We ran a scan of all adults who entered the building today. None of them were even related to the Ranger Corps."

The president frowned thoughtfully. While he was thinking, there was a second knock on his door. Without waiting for a reply, Commander Rodney stomped in.

"I heard about the infiltration," the army officer said shortly.

Duncan nodded. "Were there any school groups taking a tour today?" he asked in general.

There was a moment of silence before Rodney answered. "Yes."

"Well, then, could Gilan have gotten in with them? He's the youngest in the Corps."

Arald frowned. "It's possible, but I doubt it. He'd be in his twenties by now. And like I said, we ran scans of all visitors. None of them matched potential enemies."

Rodney took a seat and leaned back in his chair. "Well, right now, the school group is our best bet."

Duncan added to that thought. "That means that the Rangers have a new member. A young one. And according to the downed agents, he's good."

The three men exchanged a glance. None of them wanted to voice what they were all thinking. Finally, Rodney spoke up. "The Rangers are on the move again."

_With Cassandra and Horace_

Horace was terrified. As soon as he'd heard that he was switching jobs, he'd been worried. The Rangers had been counting on Horace to get Will safely in and out of the Data Room. And when he'd heard the alarm, his worries increased by tenfold.

So now, he was standing outside of Cassandra's room, pacing back and forth, filled with nervous energy.

Suddenly, the bedroom door opened. Horace nearly jumped.

"I'm going for a walk," Cassandra said shortly. Horace nodded. They left the large house, Cassandra in the lead, Horace following behind.

After about five minutes, Cassandra stopped short. "Oh for God's sake!" she exclaimed. "I'm not a princess! I'd rather have you pretend you were my friend than act like I'm some sort of goddess."

Silently, Horace let out a breath. At least Cassandra was attempting to be cordial with him. He'd heard rumors among other security guards that Cassandra had a tendency to ditch her guards.

Maybe they could become friends when all was done and over. A big stretch, but Horace was willing to hope.

**Blaaaaahhhh. Review please!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Alas, Gilan is not mine. If he was, life would be much happier.**

Chapter Five

Will growled in frustration as he tried to think. There were three ways he could do this.

One, he acted like a passerby and pretended to record the scene with his laser camera, then get the hell out of dodge.

Two, he slipped past the guards and police unnoticed with his super ninja skills Halt had taught him.

Or three, he blew everything to hell and back, then walked out like a badass.

Option two won.

Will took a deep breath and began the meticulous process of unseen movement.

Will nearly grinned to himself. _Unseen Movement_ was really a contradiction of terms. Then Will remembered he was supposed to be serious about this, and returned to the problem at hand. Will sought refuge in the shadowy corner of a building, thanking whatever supernatural being that was being nice to him for _once_ in the god-damned mission. His lively brown eyes scanned the surrounding area.

Three police cars. Four agency cars. Ten official people with guns. There was a small garden about twenty feet to his right, offering some form of cover. He looked up. With his trained eye, he could identify four hidden cameras: two on the building, on on a lamp post, and one at the base of a fountain. Will frowned.

He couldn't leave his safe haven without taking out the cameras, otherwise he'd be dead before he could take one step. But then again, if he dismantled the four surrounding cameras, then they would be able to pinpoint his direction. Oh, the problems.

Will's current position was a blind spot, he knew. But the only blind spot he could find. If he took out the lamp post first, and then the camera on the wall next to him, he could move out from his spot and around the next corner. After that, he could take out the water fountain and move _under_ the fourth camera on the wall. He put his plan into action.

Will grabbed his laser camera and focused the laser on the first camera, the one on the lamp post. Then he took out the second camera. After accomplishing that, Will dropped to the ground and snake crawled to the corner of the building. Steadying his hand, he heard the telltale sizzle as the camera at the base of the fountain was fried.

Will heard shouts in the distance. Clearly, somebody had realized that three of the security cameras on the West Wing had suddenly stopped working. He continued his snake crawl until he was directly under the last camera. Slowly, he rose to a crouch. The sun was dipping behind the building, making Will somewhat hard to distinguish from the shadows growing on the ground.

_People only see what they expect to see_.

Well, thanks, Halt. But right now they expect to see someone, so that's not really helping.

Will waited with very thin patience as the shadows _slowly_ stretched to the small garden less than fifteen feet away. Will took a breath, made sure no one was looking, and darted out from his cover. He felt himself become one with the shadows. They were him. He was them. He moved in the pattern of the wind to mask his footfalls.

Two and a half minutes later, Will rolled into a somersault, landing behind a small bush. He crouched there, waiting, while the policemen and government agents tried to figure out what was happening. As soon as the last agent turned away, Will practically turned into a spider. Moving one limb at a time, he made his way to refuge behind a black SUV. The car had a running board, or a small platform on the side to help one get into the car. It was also great for standing on.

Will made a quick leap, feet landing on the running board. His fingers scrabbled, finding purchase on the rear seat door handle. He didn't pull on the handle, God forbid the car was unlocked, instead he just used to to maintain a balance that would have made physicists cringe (in other words, he was going against all laws of gravity).

Will leaped off the car, landing lightly on the ground. He pushed the hood of his sweatshirt back, figuring it would make him look less suspicious. Will walked past the building, feigning interest as the average passerby would at the sight of nearly twenty police cars parked around a government building. As soon as he estimated he was far enough away, Will ran.

He never made it back to the Ranger HQ.

_In President Duncan's Office_

The three older men watched on in horror as, one by one, all four security cameras on the West wing went offline.

Duncan picked up the desk phone, pressed a number, and snapped into it, "What's going on in the West wing?"

Agent Stert replied, "_We don't know, sir."_

Duncan nearly growled in frustration. "Well, all four cameras just cut out, so I want to know what's going on!"

The president could hear the agent bark some instructions to the others. A few minutes later, the agent spoke into the phone. "_Sir, there's no one there._"

Duncan leaned back in his chair, hanging up the phone. "Damn," he muttered softly.

Arald and Rodney unconsciously leaned forward. "What did he say?" Rodney demanded.

Duncan closed his eyes and slowly shook his head. "He's already gone."

"Damn." Rodney seemed fairly impressed.

"So what are we going to do?" Arald asked.

"Well, let's think about this rationally. The Ranger Corps found whatever it was important enough to break in to a government building, right? But how important was it to us? Do we even know what _it_ was?"

"No," Arald replied. "Are you saying we might not need to do anything?"

Rodney seemed to catch on. "It would save us a ton of money and time. We could claim it was just a false alarm. I mean, think about it, Arald, when the Rangers don't want to be caught, they aren't caught. The only information we have about them over the last couple of years was leaked to us _by_ them. We don't even have any idea where they are located."

Arald shook his head morosely. "It's like trying to deal with the mafia."

"But more dangerous. It's not a bad idea, actually," Rodney continued.

Duncan nodded. "It would be much simpler. But then again, this person assaulted three government officials, broke into a government building, and stole something of the government's possessions. And we'd always be looking behind our backs, wondering when they're going to strike next."

Arald leaned forward. "But what if they didn't actually do anything bad? What if they're not planning on anything else?"

"I don't think it's a risk we have the privilege of taking, Arald."

_In the city_

Morg's men watched from hidden spots in the city as their target walked past, bodyguard in step with her. They were so blissfully ignorant of the eyes on them.

Stan, the leader of the group, looked back at the two men sitting in the shadows behind him. He held up one finger, signaling to retreat. They had been watching their prey for two hours now. They had all the information they needed. It had been the fourth time the two young adults had taken the same walk. The plan was ready to be put into action.

The three men met up with five others at the edge of the city. Together, they loaded into four trucks and drove out into the countryside.

It was time to report back to Morg.

As they did so, their quarry in question were enjoying a rather pleasant conversation. Cassandra had warmed up a little to her new bodyguard, Horace, and they enjoyed each others company- most of the time. Cassandra still couldn't get Horace to lose the mysterious sunglasses, though.

She found it easier to push all of the teenage hormonal emotions she was feeling abut the man to the back of her mind. When she treated him like a friend or a cousin or something she found it was much more bearable to be around him. Horace had a rather innocent look on life, making it easy to pull his leg, but she loved his gentleman-like personality. Whoever said chivalry was dead had obviously never met Horace.

The only way to make it better, Cassandra thought, was if Horace liked her the way she practically adored him.

For his part, Horace found his job much easier than others had made it out to be. Cassandra was friendly- a little spoiled, but that was to be expected. She was witty, and had much more than air in her head, unlike most of her friends (Horace suspected she didn't even _like _her 'friends', but he didn't want to say anything). Whenever Cassandra was around (which was close to 24/7), he felt like he should put his best foot forward, but in a comfortable way.

In short, he enjoyed Cassandra's company to a large extent.

Horace was drawn out of his thought when his cell phone began beeping wildly. He accepted the call immediately. "Altman."

"Altman, get your ass back here. We have a problem."

Horace frowned. He thought he could hear shouts in the distance. Then he remembered. Will was supposed to make his move today. What if everything went wrong because he hadn't been there? What if they had found Will? What if they interrogated him? What if he revealed the Horace had been in on the plan? What would happen then? Would he be discharged? Who would take his place as Cassandra's bodyguard? Horace suddenly felt a surge of jealousy to whoever would take over his job.

"Altman?" the voice broke through the young man's troubled thoughts.

"I'll be there in a minute, sir."

The call was ended in the usual abrupt agent ending- no "good bye"s or "see you soon"s. Horace suspected it might be because sometimes agents didn't have a good "bye" or saw each other soon.

Cassandra looked up curiously. "What was that?" she asked.

Horace slipped his phone back into his pocket. "We have to go back. I'm needed at the Intelligence Building, so I need to drop you back at your house."

"What happened?"

Horace shook his head. "I'm not sure, but I don't think it's anything good."

**Okay, glad I got that out. Sorry about the long wait, folks. I'm hoping to finish this story before the end of summer. It's a long time, but we need to get through a lot. I'm thinking this story will probably be about 15 chapters long.**

**Review, please!**

**-Silver out.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Happy Fourth of July my fellow Americans! **

**This also celebrates my 1 year anniversary on Fanfiction dot net! Woo hoo!**

**So amazingly I'm updating (gasp!) but I figured I wouldn't keep you hanging... ish.**

**Disclaimer: Please read the first sentence above. Clearly I do not live in Australia.**

Chapter Six

Halt nearly pulled his hair out in frustration as the three Rangers crowded around Lucas's computer. He, Crowley, and Gilan had watched with growing horror as the entire mission was blown to kingdom come. Lucas was furiously tapping on his keyboard, trying to regain control of the security monitors.

The mission had started out according to plan. Will had made it in the building safely. Lucas had replaced the security feeds with the ones from the day before- they had chosen ones with the same guards scheduled for that hallway to avoid suspicion. On another screen in the Ranger HQ, they had the live feed up so they could track Will's progress.

Things started going wrong when Horace never showed up.

"Don't go, don't go," Gil had chanted under his breath, as if Will could hear him.

"Scratch the mission," Crowley said. "He'll never get out of there alive if he tries to do it alone."

Lucas shook his head. There's no way to contact him. He doesn't have a comms unit. And we very well can't call him on his cell phone." Will had gone in without a comms unit due to the fact that it would have showed up on the government's metal detector.

And so the four friends watched silently as Will ducked into a dark room, soon followed by two men in dark suits. A few minutes later, Will walked out of the room with no sign of the men following.

"Well, damn," Halt said, with a double meaning to it. It was impressive that Will, a teenager, had been able to take out two fully grown men. But it was also bad in case anyone found the two bodies.

The next time Will appeared was in the Data Room. He found the microchip, slipped into his pocket, and was about to head out, when the emergency bell began sounding.

There was a chorus of "SHIT!"s, causing the rest of the people in the room to turn and stare at the four people grouped around two computers.

"Get out of there, Will!" Halt shouted, even though he knew Will couldn't hear him. Video Will ran into another agent. A few moves later, and the man was out cold on the ground. Then Will slipped out through the Emergency Exit door.

Lucas switched the camera views to the ones outside on the West Wing. They watched silently as Will put his training to good use and moved around silently, avoiding any policemen and agents.

Then, one by one, the security cameras blacked out.

"What?" Lucas muttered. His fingers scrambled around, trying to bring the feeds back up. "He must have taken out the security cameras."

"It would make sense," Crowley said. "It'll let him get away unseen."

"But now we have no way of knowing where he went," Gil pointed out.

"He'll be back," Halt said confidently. "He's too good to not come back."

But after waiting for four hours, in which the three Rangers attempted to distract themselves and Lucas worked some damage control on the computer, there was still no sign of Will. Halt had attempted to call him, but it had resulted in the call going straight to voicemail. That meant that either the phone was dead or it was turned off. "Dammit," Halt muttered.

"Try Horace," Gil suggested. "Maybe there's a reason why he didn't show."

Halt dialed Horace's number, and waited while it rang.

_Ring._

_Ring._

_Ring._

"_Hello?_"

"Horace," Halt said in relief. "Where the hell WERE YOU?!"

"_Oh, yeah, about that..._" Horace sounded very hesitant. "_My position got switched. I never really got a chance to tell you, so-_"

"The hell you did!" Halt growled. "What are you doing now?"

"_I'm Cassandra's new bodyguard. Listen, Halt-_"

Halt filed that information away for a minute. Right now he had more important matters to attend to. "Do you know what happened? Will was completely and totally compromised!"

"_I know, Halt. I got called back to take care of a "break in" at the Intelligence Building. If it's any consolation, they have no idea who did it. Well..._" Horace trailed off.

"Well what?" Halt probed.

"_I'm pretty sure they suspect it's the Rangers. At least, that's what I heard President Duncan telling Representative Arald_."

Halt closed his eyes for a minute. "Shit." He recalled what Horace had said about his position being switched. "Horace, you said something about being Cassandra's bodyguard."

"_Yeah..._" Horace replied carefully.

"Now, not that I'm questioning your abilities to protect her, but doesn't that sound a little sketchy? They're putting the youngest agent in charge of the second most important person in the country."

"_I didn't really think about that when they offered me the promotion_." Horace sounded slightly hurt.

"I'm not saying you can't do it," Halt tried to console the younger man. "I'm just saying I think there might be more to this than just Cassandra having temper tantrums."

"_Yeah, maybe. Listen, I have to go, they're calling a meeting of senior agents and I have to get back to my job._"

"Alright," Halt said. "Just be careful, okay? Don't let your guard down. This all smells a little funky."

"_I trust your nose, Halt. And tell Will I'm sorry, okay_?" With that Horace hung up. Halt took a deep breath. Horace still didn't know that Will hadn't made it back to Headquarters.

"What happened?" Gil asked, looking up from _Teen Vogue_ (in his defense, there was nothing around to do and it was a desperate attempt to stay in the room to listen to the conversation. It wasn't like he was actually _reading_ it. Mostly.) and giving Halt a curious glance. "From what I could tell, Horace wasn't around because his job got switched, to... Cassandra's bodyguard?"

Halt nodded silently. For a while, he didn't answer. "Duncan thinks it was us who broke in. And I don't like the sound of having someone so young looking after Cassandra."

Gil frowned. "That was probably inevitable. Especially once they found out what was stolen. But I see what you mean about Horace. I'm sure he can handle it, though."

"Mm," Halt replied, absent-minded. He meandered back to Lucas's computer. "Any sign of him?" he asked the teenager.

Lucas shook his head. "I've been staring at feed s in all of the government buildings for four hours. Nothing."

"I talked to Horace," Halt noted, placing his hands on the desk. "He said they didn't capture anyone."

The two looked at each other with growing realization. "That means-" Lucas began.

"He could be anywhere in the city by now," Halt finished for him.

_With Horace_

After Horace hung up with Halt, he drove back to the President's town house. Halt's parting words had put a shred of doubt into his mind. What if there _was_ a reason for Horace's promotion?

He pulled up outside of the house. He got out, locked the car, and headed in the front door.

"Cassandra?" he called out. There was no answer. Horace sighed; she was probably locked in her room with the music turned up incredibly loud to block out any outside noise. He walked up the stairs. Security agents stood in inconspicuous places, making no notice that Horace had walked right in front of them. It was slightly disconcerting. Off-handedly, he wondered if they ever got stiff. He knew he couldn't stay in one place for long periods of time.

He knocked on her door.

About a minute later, the door cracked open and Cassandra peeped out. Horace got the strange urge to laugh at the sight of Cassandra acting like a little kid. He quickly schooled his features.

"I'm just, um, making sure you were here."

Cassandra rolled her eyes. "Of course I'm here. There's about fifty agents in this house. I couldn't very well skip out the front door, could I?"

Horace gave a half-nod. "True," he amended.

"It's good you're back though, 'cause I'm going to a party in fifteen minutes."

Horace cocked an eyebrow. "Oh really?"

Cassandra smirked. "Yup. You can come too, I guess. I don't think they'll mind an extra person. But they might want you to take off the glasses."

Horace shook his head firmly. "The glasses don't come off," he said firmly. Truth be told, he like the mysterious aura the sunglasses brought. They made him feel important. He was glad Will and Halt weren't around to make fun of him about it. They would never let him live it down if they found out that was why he wore the glasses all the time.

"Then at least change out of the suit. It looks ridiculous on someone so young like you."

"Fine. But I have to go home to change. Do you want to wait here or come with me?"

Horace noticed a flash of something unrecognizable in her eyes. "I'll come with," she said firmly. "Give me a minute." She closed the door, only for it to reopen thirty seconds later, revealing Cassandra fully decked out in daisy dukes, a neon green tank top, and black Converse. "I'm ready," she said.

"Right," Horace said distractedly. He led the way down the stairs and out to his car. He opened the passenger seat door for Cassandra. Normally, she would have probably yelled at him for that, but today, she seemed fine with it. He crossed to the other side of the car and slid into the driver's seat.

The five minute ride to Horace's apartment was silent, save for the radio playing softly in the background. He led Cassandra to the fourth floor, apartment C. Horace flushed a little as Cassandra took in the simplistic, nearly spartan furnishings. He was never really around, due to his job. He came home late a night and left early in the morning, so he was often too tired or too busy to add any character to the place. He didn't mind it much, but under Cassandra's critical eye, it seemed very blah.

"It's so... clean," she said finally, eying the sparkling clean kitchen appliances. "Aren't boys your age supposed to be messy?"

Horace shrugged. "I'm not home much. Plus, I'm just a naturally clean person, I guess."

"I like it," Cassandra decided.

"Uh, thanks," Horace sounded hesitant. "I'm gonna go change. Make yourself at home," he said, gesturing at the couch. He disappeared into the bedroom and returned a few minutes later, in cargo shorts and a t-shirt.

Cassandra looked up when he reentered. "No, offense, but those sunglasses look ridiculous. You seriously need to lose them."

Horace closed his eyes briefly. "I'll leave them in the car," he compromised.

Cassandra grinned, having finally won the war over the sunglasses. "Ready?" she asked. Horace nodded. "Let's go."

Cassandra gave Horace directions on where the party was taking place. They pulled up in front of a large house with a long driveway. Even from where they were, they could hear voices and the pumping bass of the music. Horace gave the house a critical look. "Are you sure about this?" He looked at Cassandra.

Cassandra rolled her eyes. "It'll be fine. Come on." She made to get out of the car, then froze. "Wait. Drop the sunglasses."

Horace sighed and took of the sunglasses. Cassandra stared at him curiously. If she had been expecting something surprising, she was wrong. There was nothing particularly different about Horace's eyes, except maybe a tan line where the shades had been. His eyes were a light, clear blue, that made him look younger than he was.

"Now are we ready?" Horace asked. Cassandra nodded. They got out, and trekked down the long driveway. Cassandra was immediately admitted into the party, and with a few quick words, so was Horace.

The party was overwhelming to Horace. Everywhere he turned, there were teenagers with drinks in their hands. The music was too loud, and the regular light bulbs had been replaced with black lights. Cassandra had disappeared within two minutes.

Horace found a quiet corner in the living room, where he could watch everything and not get bumped into or covered in beer.

After about an hour and a half, Horace was starting to get bored. He figured he could wait in the car for Cassandra to be finished. He sent her a text message and headed for the front door. He froze when he saw two men enter. They talked to the "bouncer" and Horace detected several bills be slipped into the girl's hand. Horace frowned. He knew those faces. They were on the Wanted list written by the ISD. He couldn't place them, but he knew they were probably here for Cassandra. Horace had to act fast.

Horace turned and fled into the crowd. He had to get to Cassandra before they did! He bumped into someone and felt something cold drip down his leg. The person was so drunk, he just laughed and patted Horace on the back. Horace didn't spare him a second glance- he dived farther into the mass of bodies.

"Cassandra? Cassandra!" he called out, knowing she would never hear him over the noise. The pounding music was starting to get to him. He turned around in a circle, hoping for a glance of her hair. It was to no avail. The dark lighting threw everything off. He grabbed his phone, hoping she might have replied to his text. No. He tried calling her, but there was no answer.

"Dammit!" he swore. He moved into the next room. This one was even more crowded. Being tall, Horace peered over the heads of the other teenagers. He caught a glance of the two men. One was at the entrance of the room, the other was slowly moving through the crowd, in the direction of Horace. Horace ducked down and continued on through the crowd.

Horace pushed through a crowd of teens. Warm, sweaty bodies were pushed up against him. Somebody dropped more alcohol on him. It soaked through his shirt mixing with the sweat. Horace growled in frustration and continued pushing his way through.

"Cassandra," he muttered. Why had he agreed to go to this stupid party? Why had he even let _her_ go to this party?! It was such a stupid idea. And he did it right after Halt had told him there was something sketchy going on. He was so stupid. And if he made it out alive, he would probably lose his job.

"Cassandra!" Horace nearly cried in relief when he caught sight of her vibrant outfit. She was right in the center of the room, jumping around with a group of teens. He looked around to see where the other man was. They caught each other's eye over the crowd. And then it was a mad dash to see who would get to Cassandra first.

Horace used his high school football skills as he shoved his way through the people, almost knocking people down, not caring if they bumped into others. Across the room, the man seemed to be doing the same. They dodged certain incredibly drunk party goers and girls looking to dance. To Horace, it seemed like some messed up version of an obstacle course. They didn't teach you how to survive parties in agent training. If they had, Horace would have definitely taken the class.

In the end, it was Horace who made it there first. He grabbed Cassandra's hand urgently. She turned around, red Solo cup in hand, frowning at whoever was pulling at her like to tomorrow. Her confusion increased when she realized it was Horace.

"Cassandra! We have to go now! Is there a back door here, or something?"

"Why?" she asked. "I don't know, I've never been to this house before. Probably, but I doubt in this room."

Horace cursed. "We have to get you out of here." He looked around, trying to find the man he had been racing against.

"Horace! What's wrong?"

Horace glanced at her briefly before pulling her to another part of the room. "Bad dudes." His heart jumped into his throat when he turned to come face-to-face with the man. "Like him. Cassandra, run! Anywhere except the door! Go!"

"_What_?" Cassandra asked, completely bewildered. She gaped when an older man threw a punch at Horace. The younger man ducked and grabbed hold of the man's wrist, twisting it. The man gasped in pain.

Cassandra watched in horror as another man appeared in the crowd. At the same time, Bad Guy 1 twisted underneath his own arm, causing Horace to spin around, momentarily confusing him. He jabbed at Horace's ribs. Horace didn't seem to register any pain, and he swung his legs around, cutting Bad Guy 1's legs out from under him. Horace noticed that Cassandra hadn't moved.

"Go!" he shouted before Bag Guy 2 moved in. Now he had two men to deal with at the same time. Movies never really depicted something like this; they were always one-on-one to make the good guy seem really skilled.

"Horace! Duck!" Cassandra cried out at Bad Guy 2 aimed a punch for Horace's head. In the background, Cassandra noticed that the crowd had gone silent, creating a ring around them. The music still played, but everyone was watching the fight. Thanks for the help, Cassandra thought. She moved in to help.

She aimed a kick At Bad Guy 1's back, just as he was about to snap a roundhouse kick at Horace's ducked head. He stumbled forward, tripping over Horace and knocking into his crony. Horace got knocked backwards, rolling into a backwards somersault and jumped to his feet. Bad Guy 1 and 2 were regaining their balance. Cassandra moved to stand next to Horace.

"Get out of here!" he growled. "The door's clear now, go while you still have the chance!"

Bad Guy 1, in front of him, aimed a punch at Horace's throat. Horace swayed backwards, letting the fist whistle through the air. He then let loose a right hook which landed on Bad Guy 1's jaw. The man stumbled backwards, hand going to his cheek. Horace used the rebound of the punch to drive his elbow into Bad Guy 2's chest, who had tried to move in on the side.

Horace glanced back at Cassandra, who still hadn't left. "Go!" he shouted. Cassandra's eyes widened as Bad Guy 1 landed a left uppercut to Horace's jaw while he was distracted. Horace's head snapped back.

And then came the gunshot.

Horace cried out in pain as pain ripped through his thigh. He fell to the ground, clutching his leg. In the distance, he could hear people screaming. But then the pain took over. It took over his brain, and everything was washed out in red. He groaned. He had to protect Cassandra.

Horace attempted to stand up, but his leg gave out on him. He was losing consciousness as quickly as he was losing blood. They must have his a major artery, Horace thought dimly. There was a thump next to him, and that was all Horace remembered.

For her part, Cassandra had screamed when Horace had gone down. She didn't know where the bullet had gone, but there was already a lot of blood. She rushed over to him, but then something sprouted from her chest, and her vision began to fill with inky blackness. She stumbled, but then her muscles decided to stop working and she slumped to the floor, unconscious.

**Mwuaaaahaaahaaaa! Bet you weren't expecting a cliffie like that! HA!**

**Family can be really annoying. Everybody kept interrupting me while I was writing this (I started it at 10:00 this morning. Sooo... 5. 5 hours O.O). Other than that, this is the longest chapter I've ever written for Fanfiction. Consider yourselves privileged. **

**FOR MY SANITY PLEASE REVIEW!**

**-Silver out. **


	7. Chapter 7

**So, I think if I update one of my stories every other day- in other words, this story every four days- I can get them both done by the end of the summer and still have a life (not to mention get my mom off my back about being on the computer too much).**

**NOW WE GET TO FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENS TO WILL! Yay!**

**Disclaimer: I figured out how to own RA: create an elixir that allows me to live forever, wait until John Flanagan has been dead for oh, 100 years or so, then buy the rights. Ha HA!**

Chapter Seven

Will was getting tired after running around the city for three hours. He had circled around the streets several times, trying to make sure that no government officials followed him back to Ranger HQ, when he realized that _he had no idea where the hell he was_. Not to mention, the streets were still swarming with officials and secret agents. Great.

Trying not to think about how _pissed_ Halt would e when he got back, Will found himself wandering around the more dangerous side of town. The buildings were old and dilapidated, and most were inhabited by squatters. People dressed in worn out- or rather skimpy- clothing filled the streets, watching as he passed by, probably wondering why he was here, of all places. Will caught sight of at least three drug dealers, and young children and teens ran around barefooted, trying to sell illegal items to people passing by in cars. Will suppressed a shudder. He was glad he had grown up in a relatively safe neighborhood.

More than once, people tried to jump him, resulting in him pulling out his awesome Ranger ninja skills. He probably shouldn't have, though- only agents and operatives were trained in that type of combat and word traveled quickly in these parts. It wasn't long before people watched him, wondering if he was a plain clothes agent- a young agent, by the way, but who knows what the government was up to these days. Needless to say, people were very cautious around him, which wasn't very helpful. If he needed answers about anything, they would not be very talkative.

Will turned paused in front of a deserted alleyway. It was dark and dank, and twisted confusingly. A young woman stood on the stoop of the building at the entrance of it, balancing a baby on her hip. She looked sympathetically at Will.

"I wouldn't go down there if I were you," she warned.

Will quirked an eyebrow at her. "Why is that?"

"The Mutants do their work in there. Nobody in their right mind would go in there." Will had no idea who the Mutants were, but he assumed they were probably a well-known gang in this area. He would be crazy to enter a gang zone.

Will's mind was made up in a matter of seconds when he heard the sound of police car sirens. There was a flurry of activity as women and children returned to their homes and watched on from behind the safety of their doors. The men in the cliché bandannas, however, stayed out, and- if possible- looked even more dangerous and evil.

The woman's eyes widened slightly. "I should go," she said, before backing into the apartment building. Will nodded. He should go, too. He slipped into the dark alleyway, retreating further as the police cars came closer.

Two cars stopped about twenty yards from Will's hiding point. Four men climbed out, and one began barking instructions.

"Cranes! Carson! Check that alley. Bratski, follow me." Will paled slightly as he realized that two policemen were coming his way. He wasn't worried that he couldn't take them out. He also wasn't worried about letting them pass by without noticing him (he had been trained by the best, after all), but he wasn't about to test out his theory. He moved quickly and silently, taking steps in unison with the policemen as to not alert them of another person in the vicinity.

Suddenly, a deep voice sounded out, "Who the hell are you?" Will stayed where he was, controlling his breathing. A sixth sense told him that the man wasn't talking to him. A figure moved in the shadows, and a large shape dominated the alley.

One of the policemen boldly answered. "Police. We are looking for someone."

"The hell you are. You can go look for this person somewhere else. Not here."

"Sir, we could have you arrested for trying to interfere with police business," the second policeman spoke up. "And on the account of suspicious behavior and sheltering the suspect."

There was a _clink_ as the safety of a gun was switched off. "I suggest you get out of here now if you value your life."

The first policeman took a step forward. "Now listen here-" he was cut off when a loud _bang_ sounded, and a bullet hit the wall behind the policeman.

"Get. Out."

The two men quickly turned on their heels and left the alleyway, the first one speaking urgently into a radio.

The large figure turned to face Will. "Uh, thanks," he managed.

"Who are you and why are you here?"

Will swallowed, wondering how much information he should give away. "Well, my name is Will," he said slowly. "And I may or may not be on the bad side of those policemen."

"Follow me," the figure said, and proceeded further into the darkness. Will mustered up his courage and followed suite.

The man led them through an intricate set of twists and turns, coming up to an old apartment building that had seen better days. The front door was halfway off, and the bricks were covered in spray-paint graffiti. What caught Will's attention, though, was the giant eye painted over the doorway. It reminded Will of the all-seeing eye, in a way.

The light inside the building illuminated the mysterious man. He was tall and broad-shouldered, but he shuffled along like a schoolboy that was in trouble. He wasn't very old, but the intimidation factor was definitely there.

The two mounted several staircases. At each new floor, Will peered in to find... nothing. Everything was brightly lit, however, which confused Will.

Finally, they reached the final floor, and the man led Will down the well-lit hallway. This part of the building was nothing like the first three floors. It was even nicer than the next three. The carpeting had been recently vacuumed, and all the door stood properly. The walls were painted a calming blue color, and nothing was dirty. Will was now seriously confused.

They stopped in front of an apartment door at the very end of the hallway. The man knocked on the door. A faint "come in" could be heard. The man opened the door to reveal an apartment. It was cozy in an old-fashioned way. The living room walls were painted a deep burgundy color, and a couch and an overstuffed chair dominated the room. In the corner, a wooden desk was filled with papers. Will counted five doors leading off from the room- a kitchen, a bathroom, a closet, and probably two bedrooms, he assumed. Sitting in the chair was an old, weathered man.

"Thank you, Trobar," the man said, standing up. "And you are?" he directed towards Will.

"Will," he replied.

"Well, Will, I would like to have a word with you. Trobar, if you could be so kind as to give us a minute?"

The larger man grumbled, but left the apartment, closing the door behind him. The old man smiled at Will and gestured at the couch. "Please, take a seat." Will did so, cautiously. The older man went back to his chair. "My name is Malcolm. And what, may I ask, brings you to my neck of the woods?"

Will shifted uncomfortably. "Well, I was in an alleyway, and that man- Trobar- confronted two policemen and brought me here, basically. So I'm not really sure."

The older man nodded. "But why were you here in the first place?"

"Well, I kind of got lost trying to get back home," Will started. "Where exactly am I, anyway?"

"I'm sorry, I suppose a bit of an explanation is in order. We are a group called the Eyes. Many people in these parts refer to us as the Mutants. I'm sorry if some of my people were hostile, they don't act very well around other people."

Will quirked an eyebrow.

"I am more of a doctor. I take care of people who have been rejected by humanity, be it inherited traits or problems acquired. You probably didn't see anyone coming up here because they are a little hesitant around... normal people, should I say."

"Why are you telling me this?"

Malcolm shrugged, which looked very strange on the frail man's body. "Trobar brought you here for a reason. He is known for having good instincts."

"And why are you called the Eyes?"

"we know everything that happens in this area, but it's also very hard to get here. We have some stunning defense systems, if I do say so myself. Now that I've told you my story, perhaps you could share yours?"

Will bit his lip. "I ran into a bit of trouble. I was trying to avoid agents and the police, so I circled around several times to get them off my tail. Then I kind of got lost and ended up in the alleyway with the police and Trobar. I really need to get back home, though."

Malcolm cocked his head to the side. "You wouldn't happen to be the person who broke into the Intelligence Building, would you?"

"How did you know about that?"

Malcolm smiled. "We are called the Eyes for a reason. Besides, it was all over the news. Are you the young man who broke in there?"

"It's possible," Will said evasively. After receiving a withering look from the old man, he conceded. "My... company needed a vital piece of information that the ISD had."

"And which company would this be?"

Will swallowed. He wasn't sure if he should tell the man or not. He doubted Malcolm was working for the government, seeing as one of his "patients" threatened to shoot a policeman. Looking at the man's trusting eyes, he gave in. "The Ranger Corps."

Malcolm's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. "Excuse me?"

Will nodded. "The Ranger Corps. I've been training under Halt for a while now."

"I was under the impression that they did not exist anymore."

"Oh, they exist all right. Not under a branch of the government, though. We still actively operate."

Malcolm seemed to take that piece of news very well. "And the ISD had information that the Rangers were not able to get themselves?"

Will shrugged. "I'm pretty sure it's about the Rangers. The details were a bit hazy."

Malcolm seemed to make a decision. "Well, young Will of the Ranger Corps, we would be delighted to have to stay at our accommodations to wait out the storm. Then you can be on your way back to deliver your information. Assuming you were successful, of course."

_With Horace and Cassandra_

Cassandra suppressed a groan as she slowly came to consciousness. Keeping her eyes shut, she tried to figure out why she was lying on the ground. She had gone to a party last night... and then she remembered. Horace, the men, the tranquilizer, _where the hell was she_? But, wait! Horace had been shot!

Cassandra attempted to open her eyes quickly and failed. The tranquilizer was probably still wearing off. Her eyelids lifted slowly and she squinted as light filtered in. She attempted to sit up, but something cold and hard stopped her hands from moving very far. She looked down. She wasn't tied to anything, but her hands and feet were cuffed. She was lying on a cement floor, and a bare 25-watt light bulb didn't help much in lighting up the room.

Rolling onto her stomach, she pulled herself up to all fours and looked around. A dark figure across the room caught her attention. She painstakingly dragged herself over to the person. "Horace?" she asked quietly.

Horace was squatting, resting most of his weight on the one leg underneath him and the wall against his back. His other leg, the one covered in blood, was stretched out in front of him. His hands were tied together with rope, and his right hand was cuffed to a chain bolted into the wall just high enough so Horace couldn't sit down without ripping his arm out. Horace's head was down and his eyes were closed, but when Cassandra whispered his name, he looked up.

"Oh, my God, what did they do to you?" she whispered, horrified. He had a black eye, dried blood caked under his nose and around his mouth, and his jaw looked swollen. Even so, Horace attempted at a smile.

"Hey," he slurred. Cassandra brought her hands up to his face and gently touched the black eye.

"What happened?" she asked.

"My job," was his answer.

Cassandra felt guilt surge through her. This had happened to Horace because of her. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Are there any medical supplies in here?" Cassandra looked around, then realized she wouldn't be able to see anything from where she was. She started crawling around the room.

"I don't remember you getting that beat up in the fight," she said cautiously.

Horace winced as he shifted his weight. "I woke up as they were moving us in here. I think we're in the basement of a house. They got a little slap happy- and not in the harmless sense."

"Do you have any idea how long we've been down here?" Cassandra went to lean back to rest, then winced as the hard metal cut into her ankles.

"Six hours and forty-two minutes," Horace replied, slightly delayed. Cassandra froze.

"Have you been awake this entire time?"

Horace took a while before replying. "Yes."

"Why?" Cassandra was horrified.

"Multiple reasons. One, it's my job to protect you, and I kind of already royally screwed that up. Two, if I do fall asleep, there's the possibility that I won't wake up, thanks to my leg. And three, I wouldn't be able to fall asleep in this position anyway."

Cassandra completed her fruitless search of the room and made her way back to where Horace squatted. "Nothing," she reported.

Horace briefly closed his eyes. "I'm going to have to treat the bullet wound with something." He thought for a minute. "Cassandra, do you think you're able to get this shirt off me? You'll have to rip it."

Cassandra looked down at her cuffed hands. "I can try," she said.

"Just be careful around my ribs. I think there's at least two broken on the left side."

It took twenty-three minutes, according to Horace's internal clock, for Cassandra to rip both sides of the shirt to get the cloth off, then rip those two pieces into strips. A task that would normally take under five. Cassandra tried not to look at Horace's toned body, those beautiful abs, the tanned skin even in the darkness...

Right. Focus.

"Alright," Horace's voice filtered into her consciousness. "I'm going to stand up. Just tie the strips around my leg." Horace stood, maintaining his balance on one leg, giving Cassandra full access to his right leg. "Don't try to remove the shorts fabric stuck to it. It'll just reopen the wound. Work over it." Cassandra nodded, and meticulously, holding one end of each strip with her teeth while wrapping the other end around the leg and tying it off. She willed herself not to look up.

"There," she said, as she finished the last knot. "Now what?"

Horace sighed. "And now we wait."

**Awwww... poor Horace :( I just wanna go in here and give him a big hug and make him ****feel all better. But... I can't. **

**And don't forget guys, Cassandra is soooo out of her element. Up until now, she's led a spoiled, pampered life. So this is all kind of a big reality check.**

**Review, please!**

**-Silver out.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Look! I'm actually sticking to my plan! What an achievement!**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Ranger's Apprentice, the movie would have been out years ago, not waiting for funding.**

Chapter 8

The Ranger Headquarters was a flurry of frenzied activity. Rangers entered and left the building at all hours of the day, while the techies worked tirelessly at their computers. The news of Cassandra being kidnapped had caused everyone to freak out, and Crowley was attempting to restore order.

Crowley, Halt, and some other senior Rangers were gathered in Crowley's office, formulating a plan to save Cassandra and Horace before it was too late. Younger Rangers entered and left the office to relay information.

Gilan, who was not a senior Ranger, was pacing back and forth behind Lucas and his computer. He was worried about Horace. Horace was a friend of Gil's ever since he, Horace, and Will went on a whirlwind tour of a neighboring country, Celtica. But now, reports said that Horace had been injured by a gunshot. Nobody knew where he'd been shot, which could cause a problem in Horace's mortality rate. And nobody was bothering to tell him anything, so he had no further knowledge to calm his fears. Not to mention, Will _still_ hadn't returned from his mission gone wrong.

This just wasn't Gilan's day. Tomorrow wasn't looking too good, either.

"Will you _please_ control yourself?" Lucas finally exploded. "I can't concentrate with your shuffling and loud breathing."

Gil glared at the young man. "Well, what else do you want me to do?"

Lucas pretended to think for a minute. "Oh, I don't know, NOT PACE? No matter how many times you walk back and forth, Will is not going to magically appear with Horace in tow."

"Actually, knowing Will, he probably will."

"That's beside the point."

Gil closed his eyes. "I just, I can't take this. Not knowing where they are, not being able to do anything. I can't just sit around and twiddle my thumbs and hope somebody else finds them."

"Then go ask Crowley if he can give you a field job or something. Just please leave me alone."

Gilan sighed and left the room. He climbed the stairs up to the fourth floor, where Crowley's office was. People passed him, most decked out in the Ranger uniform: dark jeans, black combat boots, and dark hoodies (back in the days of the government, they had been slightly more professional, but these served a better purpose: they blended in with everyone else and the government couldn't identify them according to their outfits). For there only being 50 active Rangers and a few more retired ones, there seemed to be a lot of people around.

Gilan hesitated outside of the door. Inside, he could hear hushed voices, muffled by the somewhat-soundproof walls (nothing is really soundproof when dealing with trained operatives). Gathering up his courage, he knocked on the door.

Halt opened the door to admit Gil.

"Oh, Gil, so glad that you happened to be here. We've got a slight problem."

Gilan quirked an eyebrow as he walked into the room. "Only a slight one?" In Halt-speak, "slight" meant "this could possibly be the end of the world, but don't worry because we'll think of something that could very well end with us getting killed or severely injured to the point of never being able to walk and talk again".

"We got a call from Will," Crowley said, catching Gil's attention. "He called to inform us that he was successful and has the chip, except he got lost coming back and ended up in the Projects. He's crashing with a gang called the Eyes. Apparently they're good guys. Who knew," Crowley muttered as an afterthought. "Anyway, he found out about Cassandra and Horace, and he's freaking out. So we've got a mission for you, should you choose to accept it."

Gilan nodded for him to continue.

"Your mission is to meet up with Will. Then you two are going to track down who's behind the kidnapping. If possible, report back to us. _With_ the chip. It's been out in the open far too long. We'll think of something then."

"Usual weapons?" Gilan asked.

"I think so. You won't be infiltrating any important buildings, so I think you'll be fine."

Gilan nodded. "Great. I'll be back soon."

Line Break- Line Break

Gilan's car unlocked with chirp. He threw some necessities into the trunk (i.e. a few extra guns and rounds, a change of clothes, some food), but most of his supplies was on his body. Halt has simply raised an eyebrow as Gil adorned his weapons: a Glock, a wicked-looking double-edged hunting knife, brass knuckles, _another_ knife, this one weighted perfectly for throwing, a ring filled with poison, and a sniper rifle disguised in a nondescript tennis racket bag.

"You have enough weapons there to take out a small army," Halt muttered.

"That's the general idea," Gil said cheerfully.

"Good luck," the older Ranger said. "Come back alive, and with Will. Alive too, preferably." Gil realized that Halt was hiding most of his worry. He was mentally berating himself for sending Will on the mission. He thought Will wasn't ready to go on his own, and now it was Halt's fault that Will wasn't back, safe.

Gil gripped his ex-mentor's shoulder. "Halt. This isn't your fault. You weren't expecting this. Nobody was. It's not like he's dead, or injured, or anything. Besides, for such a screwed up mission, he did it pretty well."

"Just get your ass back here soon." Halt said it gruffly, and Gil suspected he was an emotional wreck underneath.

"I'll be back before you oldies realize I've left," Gilan smiled, pushing the comms unit into his ear. He gave Halt a little two-finger salute and hopped into his car.

"Comms check," a voice said in his ear.

"Lucas! I didn't know you were in on this," Gilan exclaimed.

"Check," Halt's voice sounded in his ear, too.

"Trust me, I didn't either, until about five minutes ago when they told me you got to annoy me _yet again_."

"Hear hear," Halt muttered.

"For the sake of my sanity, please do not abuse your comms rights," Lucas continued. "Or I might be tempted to accidentally lose my ear piece."

"I'll try," Gil said. "Now, where exactly am I going?"

"The Projects. Will said he'd meet you outside of Apartment 28." This was Halt again.

"And who exactly are the Eyes?"

"It's an infamous gang in the city. They kind of have domain over a certain area of the Projects. Nobody goes in there, and if they do, they don't come out."

"I wonder if they're running out of places to hide the bodies," Gilan commented mildly.

"They also have an intricate intelligence system. They know everything about everyone who is anyone in the city. We don't really know how they do it, so this is a great chance to learn some stuff about them."

"Roger. Hey, what's my budget?"

"Why?" Halt's voice was careful.

"'Cause I'm really in the mood for a latte."

"Good God," Halt breathed.

_With Cassandra and Horace_

Cassandra soon found out that when you had nothing to do but sit on a floor for hours on end, time tends to pass very slowly. The only sign of time passing was the infrequent trips from random men to deliver food and take them on bathroom breaks. Other than that, the two captives had nothing to do to amuse themselves. And Horace wasn't being very talkative, probably because he was formulating a master plan to get the two of them out of here. But for now, Cassandra was bored out of her mind.

She groaned in frustration. Horace, who had been dozing, opened one eye to look at her. "Yes?"

"I'm just so bored," she said.

Horace raised an eyebrow, which was quite a feat for someone with a black eye. "You've been kidnapped, probably held for ransom, and have no way of escaping this place, and the only thing you care about is that you're bored?"

"I have confidence that you'll think of something," she said airily.

Horace shook his head. "The only thing I'm thinking of is how I should have listened to Halt and been more careful about this whole thing."

Cassandra, with some difficulty, sat up straight. "You know Halt?"

Horace looked like a deer caught in the headlights. "It's possible."

Cassandra shook her head. "My dad always talks about Halt. He was part of the Ranger Corps before they disbanded. He disappeared after that."

"They never disbanded," Horace said slowly. "They just got everybody to think they did. They still work and stuff, it's just not government sanctioned."

Cassandra raised an eyebrow. "How do you know about this and my father doesn't?"

"Your father does. He also knows that the Rangers are the ones that broke into the Intelligence Building yesterday. Or, at least, he suspects they are. That's what the whole meeting was about yesterday."

"That doesn't explain how you know Halt."

Horace took a deep breath. "My best friend, Will, and I, grew up as next-door neighbors. A few years ago, he got recruited by the Ranger Corps. I finished high school and went on to become a government agent. We're still friends, though, and Halt is his mentor, of sorts. So we kind of know each other."

"And Halt knew about this whole thing and didn't tell my dad?"

"Well, first of all, even if he did know anything, he would have gotten arrested the minute he stepped into your dad's office. Second of all, he doesn't know anything. He was just suspicious about my promotion. And clearly he was right." Horace stood up to stretch out his legs. "But right now, they're all we have to depend on. Because if anyone's going to find us and rescue us, it's going to be a Ranger."

**And now the secret's out! Except Cassandra still doesn't know that Horace was supposed to help them break into the Intelligence Building, or that he's been sneaking them information for years O.o I wonder what she'll do when she finds out. **

**Also, Gilan's out for blood! Or a latte. Whichever comes first.**

**Review, please! And I'll see you in four days!**

**-Silver out.**


	9. Chapter 9

**And... I'm back. Thanks for all the feedback, guys. I really appreciate all the reviews :)**

**Disclaimer: Ranger's Apprentice, sadly, is not my idea.**

Chapter 9

After Gilan stopped at the coffee shop to get his latte, he continued driving in the direction of the Projects. The traffic was difficult, especially today due to the numerous news station vans and reporters. They blocked the streets, shouting at government officials as they walked down the sidewalks, heading to their jobs or the President's house. The entire country was in a hectic amount of chaos. People didn't know where to turn: nobody knew who had kidnapped the President's daughter- it could have been an internal group or a terrorist group.

In addition to the reporters and officials, protesters lined the streets. Some wanted more control on people's lives, others tried to get the government to go to war with numerous countries, despite the fact that there was no evidence of any other countries being involved. Some even wanted to impeach the President. The last idea was incredibly stupid to Gil- why would the President want to kidnap his own daughter? There was nothing to gain from throwing the country into chaos. He was at the highest executive position- the only step up would be to become a dictator and get rid of the legislature.

If anyone were to ask Gilan (nobody would, he just liked to pretend that people actually cared about what he thought), he would think that it was probably an attack from the inside. Somebody who knew the patterns of the President and his family, or the security established in this part of the country. Really the only people who would have that type of knowledge at their hands were ISD agents and Rangers. And Gil knew it wasn't the Ranger Corps.

But Gilan was trained to analyze every possible option, so he didn't leave out the possibility of an international group. Trying to find a potential mole in an intelligence group would be long and tedious, and best left to the agency itself. But they could at least rule out one option.

Gil whistled. "Hey, Conscience." He could practically _see_ Halt purse his lips together in barely restrained annoyance.

"What do you want?"

"Well, at least the logical part of my brain is awake. Where's the smart part?" Gilan waited for Lucas to answer.

There was a minute of silence before a reluctant voice came over the comms unit. "I was hoping you'd forget that I was here and you could leave me in peace."

Gil snickered. "You're not that lucky." He pounded on the horn of his car. The man operating the car next to him shouted something and flipped him off. "Stupid drivers," he muttered. "Who needs citizens anyway?"

"Oh, you know, they're just the only reason we exist," Lucas said lightly.

"But seriously, who needs them?" A protester jumped into the street two cars in front of Gilan. He started shouting something at the driver in the car. The man got out of his car and started yelling at the protester. Ten seconds later, they were in a fistfight. Gil shook his head sadly. "They just don't make protesters like they used to anymore."

"Those two sentences were wrong on so many levels I don't even know where to begin," Halt muttered.

"I dare you to try," Gilan teased.

"I think I might actually take you up on that offer. One, without citizens, you there is no such thing as a country. Two, you aren't old enough to know what protesters used to be like. Three..."

"Okay, okay," Gil intervened. "I get it. But they tick me off so much." Gilan squinted at a sign one middle-aged man was holding up. "I don't think we need to send a nuke into Teudlandt. What do you think?"

"Gilan," Lucas sighed, "You obviously started this conversation for a reason, and I highly doubt it was to complain about the world."

"Right. Um, so, I was wondering if the smart part of my brain could take a look at any Visas granted to foreign people in the last... oh, twelve months or so? Anybody who could have potentially kidnapped Cassandra. Been around the country, or the city, long enough to study the patterns of our government. I mean, I don't _think_ it was an outside job, but it never hurts to check."

"It hurts my eyes," Lucas muttered. "So you want me to look up anybody who is not a CITIZEN," he annunciated the last word to emphasize the importance of the previous conversation, "who has entered the country within the last year."

"Yeah. Can you do that?"

Lucas snorted. "Of course I can do it, it's more of do I really _want_ to do it."

"Do you really think this is necessary?" Halt asked.

"No, but I want to be able to explore all possibilities. It seems like the guys who did it were really _inside_ the government. But we have to explore all possibilities."

"True," Halt agreed. "How long do you think that will take, Lucas?"

Gilan switched lanes as Lucas answered. "Well, I'd have to hack into the Foreign Affairs Department to get the list of everyone. Then I'd have to take anyone who entered in the last year and find their profiles to filter out people who have left the country or died. And _assuming_ we have no problems with that, then we get to pick people who might be responsible. We're looking at a three to four hours, at least."

"Great. You get started on that, and I'll get Will. When we get back, we can start narrowing down the list even more."

"What should I be doing, your Royal Highness," Halt asked.

Gilan smiled. "You're cheery voice just warms me to the bone, Halt. You can... I dunno. Sit there and look pretty."

"Or, you can keep an eye on the other computers and tell me if anything important pops up while I'm working."

"Like that?"

Gilan had no idea what the other two were talking about, but it sounded serious.

"Yes. Exactly like that," Lucas replied. There was a few scraping sounds and a moment of silence before Lucas remembered that Gilan couldn't see what they were seeing. "The ISD just received a ransom note... email? I guess?"

"What does it say?" Gil's forehead creased.

When Lucas replied, it sounded slightly distracted. "It just says that they have custody of Cassandra and want about ten million bucks by the end of this week or else she dies. Just your usual ransom note."

"Can you trace it?"

Lucas sighed. "This isn't some cliché movie where the bad guys are complete idiots and leave a return address on the letter. The sender is blocked, and they probably bounced the signal off of three different satellites before sending it to the ISD's corner of the web."

"That sounds... complicated." Gilan pounded on the horn again as another erratic driver cut in front of him. "Wait a second, you said this was sent to the ISD, right?"

"Yeah..." Lucas answered slowly.

"Then why did you receive it?"

From the way Lucas's voice sounded when he replied, Gilan could tell he was annoyed and thought Gilan was a complete idiot. "I've connected to the ISD's server and piggybacked their signal. Anything that enters, leaves, or occurs on their computers shows up here."

"How long have you had this up?"

"About six months."

"Damn," Gil whistled. "And they haven't noticed anything?"

"Gilan, we've got _the best_ techs here at HQ. There's no possible way that they could have noticed anything," Halt replied.

"Okay, okay, I'm just asking," Gilan backpedaled.

"Well, don't ask and go do your mission. And let Lucas go do your wild goose chase."

_President Duncan's Office_

Everybody, save for a select few, was steering clear of the President. After being notified of his daughter's kidnapping, which had happened to be right after the realization that the Ranger Corps had broken into the Intelligence Building, Duncan retreating to his office and proceeded to snap at anyone who attempted to do their jobs.

The only people allowed into the office was Representative Arald, Commander Rodney, and General David of the military. They were Duncan's closest friends and best advisers. In fact, the three were in there right now, trying to console Duncan.

Console is a very relative term, though. Of the three friends, the one with the most compassion was Arald. Rodney and David were both in the military and masked their feelings very well. Both had once been married, but the two women had died years previous. Arald was still happily married and was, in some senses, a softie.

"Look, I'm sure everything will be okay. You heard the ISD received a ransom note, right? They're going to try and trace it, since it was sent over the Internet," Arald said soothingly.

"Do we have any idea who it was?" David asked.

Rodney shook his head and sighed. "Right now, the only suspect we have is the Ranger Corps."

"What?" David asked sharply.

"I knew they were going to do something. Ever since they broke into the Intelligence Building." Arald scowled.

"_What?_" David asked again. The Ranger Corps was a touchy subject for him. His son, Gilan, had been recruited by the Corps at a young age. Before that, David had expected Gilan to go into the military, like him. He sent his son to a military school when Gilan was younger. But then, Gilan joined the Rangers. When the Corps was disavowed, David had tried to convince his son to come back and join the Army. Gilan had vehemently refused- one thing led to another, and the son dropped all contact with David. The two hadn't seen each other or talked in several years.

Duncan looked up. "You didn't know? The Rangers broke into the Intelligence Building. The intruder was gone before we could barely even gather our forces together."

"But they..." David waved a listless hand around. "They're gone."

Duncan gave him the eye. "You really think they'd give up like that? They've been lurking in the shadows for years."

"But you don't really think they would do something like this, would you? My son would never commit a crime like this."

Rodney shook his head. "It doesn't seem like something they would do, I think we're all in agreement with that, right?" he looked around the small room, and everybody else nodded. "But right now, they're the only lead we've got. Besides, they might know something we don't. They could prove a valuable asset."

"Those people are like a grenade with the pin halfway out. You never know what they're going to do next! They make the ISD look like junior soldiers on a bad day!" Arald protested.

Duncan shook his head morosely. "Right now, a grenade is all we've got to use."

**And now David's entered the scene! I hope you liked the chapter.**

**Review, please!**

**-Silver out.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hola. Aloha. Ciao. Cheerio. Shalom. Etc. **

**Thanks for the awesome reviews, guys. They mean a lot to me. Every time I read a new one, I smile. **

**Anyway, disclaimer: me no own Gilan, Will, Horace, Halt, or any of the awesome characters in this story. **

Chapter 10 (woah!)

Once Gilan got out of the traffic in the center of the city, the rest of the ride was fairly quiet. He cruised the nearly empty streets of the Projects, feeling very conspicuous in his nice, new, shiny, expensive car. Maybe he should have parked it a couple blocks away and walked.

Nevertheless, Gilan pulled up outside of the designated meeting place. He sat in the car for a minute, gathering his thoughts, then stepped out of the car. He locked the door, then checked it. And checked it again. And triple checked it.

Gilan slowly made his way over to the entrance of the alleyway, mindful to keep the car in sight. What can he say? He loved his baby. Not to mention there were several lethal weapons in the trunk.

Gil only had to wait a few minutes before Will appeared, like a ghost coming out of the darkness.

"Will!" Gil exclaimed, happy to see his friend.

"He's there?" Halt's voice entered his ear through the comms unit.

Gilan rolled his eyes. "Of course he's here. Why else would I shout 'Will'?"

Will looked at the older Ranger like he had lost his mind in the short time Will had been gone. "Gil? Who are you talking to?"

Gilan pointed at his ear, as if that explained everything. "Comms unit."

Will opened his mouth in a small _ah_ gesture. "Who's on the other end?"

"Halt and Lucas," Gilan replied, smirking when Will raised his eyebrow.

"That must be interesting," Will commented mildly.

"Does he have the chip?" Lucas asked, breaking into the conversation.

Gil turned to Will. "Lucas wants to know if you have the chip."

Will patted his front pocket, feeling the bump of the microchip. "Yup. Hasn't left my sight since I got it." He shook his head. "The lengths I went through to get this thing. And I don't even know what's on it."

"Yes, he has the chip," Gil told Lucas, before redirecting the conversation to Will. "I know. We watched on the surveillance cameras before you knocked them out."

"But then I had to use my super secret ninja Ranger training to get past all the security guys. And after that, I landed here, and met a gang. Who's not really a gang, if you know what I mean."

"Now you two need to find out who kidnapped Cassandra and Horace," Halt said, greatly reminding Gilan of an annoying gnat.

"Oh, for the love of God, I know what we have to do. And if you two don't shut up, I'm going to leave you in a place you will never find. Preferably a dark, mysterious alley where nobody will hear you scream."

Will looked at Gilan like he was seriously concerned for the man's safety. "It's very awkward not being able to hear what's happening on the other end of the signal."

Gilan ignored Will. "Now maybe, if you could tell me what you two found out, we could get the job done faster, and then we could get back, and then you and Will can reunite like a big, happy family, and Crowley can get his precious chip back. But we can't do that unless you two give me some information and then proceed to shut up and leave us alone," he finished his rant.

Things were quiet on both ends. Will studied the ground, kicking at a rock.

Finally, Lucas answered. "Well, you were right. We scoured every single file, and found nothing that would suggest it was an outside job. Happy?"

"Happi_er_," Gilan replied. "I will be even more happy if you do the shutting up part now."

"Not until you discuss what you're planning on doing-" Halt's voice was cut off when Gil dug the unit out of his ear.

"C'mon Will, let's go discuss things in my car. After I stick these two in the trunk so we can plan in peace."

Will looked slightly confused, but followed Will back into Gilan's car, taking shotgun. Gil went to the back and dropped the ear piece into the trunk, next to his cache of weapons. Then he closed the trunk and slid into the driver seat.

"I am horribly confused right now," Will said, looking at Gilan for an explanation.

Gil flapped a hand at him. "All that's important is finding out who kidnapped Horace and Cassandra. Then we go back to Headquarters and devise a plan of attack to get them back. We know that it wasn't an international terrorist group, or anything, so we're looking at someone in the country. We just have to find that person or persons."

Will considered that. "Easy enough," he decided.

"I think your definition of easy is different from my definition of easy."

"Well," Will said carefully. "All you really have to do is track down where they're being held, then find out who comes in and out of the building, and match them up to a liable suspect."

Gil observed the younger man. "Uh huh. And how exactly do you plan on doing that?" Will opened his mouth to answer, then fell silent. Gil nodded. "Exactly."

"Okay, new plan of attack. We could call Horace's cell phone and track where the phone is."

"Will, the probability of Horace actually having his phone on him is in the same likelihood as Halt crying in public... oh," Gil realized what Will meant. "I get it. It would lead us to the bad guys."

Will nodded. "That's what I was thinking. Unless, of course, they ditched the phone somewhere, the ISD got hold of it, or it spontaneously combusted 'cause it's a special agent phone, and all. But yeah, it might work."

"I like that idea. But..." Gil trailed off.

"But what?" Will pressed.

"That would require us contacting Lucas and Halt again to track the call. Which means I would have to put that stupid ear piece back in my ear again and listen to them yell at me. Any better ideas?"

Will rolled his eyes and shook his head, grinning. "You make me laugh. We've got a major national crisis, and all you care about is listening to two people on the other end of your comms unit. If it really matters that much to you, I'll take the ear piece."

"Really?" Gilan looked like Christmas had come early. "But you'll have to get it out of the trunk. I'm not exactly sure where I threw it."

Will sighed and got out of the car, circling back to the trunk. He opened it up, and Gilan waited for Will to return. Several minutes later, Will slid back into the passenger seat, looking traumatized as he placed the unit in his ear. "Why are there so many weapons in the trunk?" he asked rather calmly.

"Oh, you saw those, did you?"

"Saw them?" Will's voice raised in pitch. "Theres enough ammo in there to annex a small country!"

Gilan shrugged. "Didn't know how much I'd need, and you were probably unarmed, so I compensated for you, too."

"I think that if there were any more weapons, we wouldn't be able to fit in the car."

"Hey," Gil scowled. "Don't insult Blaze," he petted the steering wheel. "She's very touchy about her size."

"Oh, good God in heaven," Will muttered. "Are we ready to go, or does Blaze need a full detail car wash?" Will made sure the sarcasm was dripping.

Gil sent him a sidelong glance. "Don't think I didn't notice the sarcasm."

"I would be worried if you didn't."

"Actually," Gilan started the car. "A car wash sounds like a great idea. And it's coming out of your paycheck." He grinned evilly.

"We are not going through a car wash."

Gil stopped the car. "Just as long as you don't insult Blaze."

"Fine," Will grumbled. "I won't insult Blaze any more."

Gil smiled. "Then let's get this show on the road." He floored the gas pedal.

"Somebody help me," Will muttered, as he gripped the sides of his seat.

**So, a little short chapter 'cause I had no inspiration this week.**

**Hey, would it be okay if I didn't update this Sunday? I'm going on a mini road trip with no Internet access. I'll either update the Monday after, or make a really long chapter in compensation the next Thursday.**

**Tell me what you think!**

**And don't forget to review!**

**-Silver out.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Hi guys. I'm feeling very tired and sore. Whoever decided that sailing without a sail was a good idea was crazy. Or not being allowed to use the tiller (but not both at the same time). I've done both in two days and both times we've capsized. The first time was on purpose. I'm gonna go all sailor lingo on you, so those who sail will understand what I'm talking about:**

**We were in a 420 sailing without the sail, using kinetics to move, when the square knot holding together the outhaul and main halyard snapped, so the boom came crashing down on us. Then the main halyard came out of the eye thing at the top of the mast. The only way to fix it was to capsize it. But nobody told us you had to hold _on_ to the mast so the boat wouldn't turtle. It took three of us to upright the boat. **

**Today was an accident though. We were trying to gybe without using the tiller, and we heeled a little bit too much. That took four guys to upright.**

**Now my rant is over. Okay.**

**Disclaimer: If I don't own the characters by now, I probably never will.**

Chapter Eleven

It had been two and a half days since Horace and Cassandra's kidnapping, and Horace's condition had deteriorated even further. Not being able to fully rest was taxing and didn't allow Horace's injured leg to heal at a normal speed. The minimal amounts of food and water didn't exactly help, either. The two had racked their brains for hours at a time, trying to come up with a plan to escape, but to no avail. Cassandra had no fighting experience, and Horace was in no condition to battle several grown men. But even before that, they had no way of getting out of their restraints or room.

Neither of them still had their phones- they had either been confiscated or lost on the way to the house. They had searched over every detail, every situation, every possible outcome, and they had come up with nothing. Escape was not an option. But waiting to see what their captors would do was not an option, either.

Horace closed his eyes and gently rested his head on the wall behind him. He sighed through his nose, trying to relax. The bullet wound had faded to a dull throbbing, annoying but bearable. He was more worried about it getting infected, and the signs had already begun to show. Horace didn't even want to think about the problems that would occur if they were rescued. The skin and muscle surrounding the bullet had started the long process of healing, so getting the bullet out would be messy.

The swelling on his cheek had begun to go down, so he wasn't too concerned about that. And he'd decided that his broken ribs hadn't punctured a lung, otherwise he wouldn't still be here by now. Instead, Horace just experienced a sharp, stabbing pain whenever he inhaled or moved.

Thudding came from outside the door, signaling that their captors were coming down the cellar stairs. This wasn't incredibly worrying; the only times they'd had visitors was to deliver food or take them on bathroom breaks. Nonetheless, Cassandra scooted away from her post next to Horace to a less suspicious position.

The door banged open and two men entered the room. The dim lighting didn't reveal much, but the glint of a small handgun in the first man's hand was obvious. Horace glanced curiously at them. He didn't think he'd ever seen them before. As the second man moved closer to the center of the room, the two captives noticed he was cradling a rifle in his arms. This was obviously not a meal entourage.

"Hey, you," the first man nudged Cassandra's leg. "Is your father attending the Celtic Council Triumvirate Conference on Friday?"

"Why do you want to know?" Cassandra replied boldly.

The man released the safety on the handgun. "You may want to answer, if you value the use of your legs," he threatened.

Cassandra remained stubbornly silent, not willing to give anything away.

The man shot at the ground by Cassandra's feet. The cement exploded, scratching the girl's lower legs. Cassandra let out a little squeak of fear.

"No!" Horace exclaimed, yanking at the chains that restricted his hands. The second man pointed his gun threateningly at the young man, daring him to make another move. Horace, wisely, froze where he was, watching Cassandra with growing horror.

"Should we try that again?" the man said dangerously.

"I don't know, why would I know?" Cassandra said quickly, not wanting to witness the shot again.

"Why?" the man growled quietly, leaning in to reveal to Cassandra a gruff, weathered face and cold, hard eyes. "The Conference is the biggest diplomatic meeting of the year. Anybody who is anybody will be there."

"Then why are you asking e if my father will be there?" Cassandra asked, slightly confused.

"Because," the man's voice got even darker, "your father never publicly announced that he was attending."

"Honestly, I don't know. I don't worry about that sort of thing." Cassandra could feel a cold hand clench her heart. What were these men planning? Of course she knew that her father was going- he had tried to convince Cassandra to come with him, as a good way to experience the diplomatic workings behind Araluen's World Peace Policy.

It was fast. One second the man's hand was supporting the other holding up the gun. The next, there was a loud smack and Cassandra's head urned to the side. Horace growled, almost possessively.

"You are the president's daughter. Something as big as the conference is bound to be discussed at the dinner table. Now, is he going or is he not?"

The area of Cassandra's cheek where the hand met skin throbbed, and she could feel it begin to swell. Still she remained stubborn.

The man took a step back, realizing that their tactics weren't working. "Maybe your friend here might provide some incentive." He nodded at his comrade, who released the safety of his rifle. Horace's eyes widened in horror, as did Cassandra's.

"Wait! Wait!" she protested, raising her bound hands up in front of her, signaling the man to stop. "I- yes. He is going," she said in a defeated voice.

"Cassandra," Horace muttered in a low voice.

The two men didn't utter another word. They exited the room, dead bolting it as they went. When Horace estimated they had gone far enough, he turned to face Cassandra. "Why did you do that?" he asked. "That was important information. Who knows what they're going to do now."

"I couldn't let them hurt you even more," Cassandra said quietly.

"But... I'm... expendable. Nobody's going to miss me if I die. My life versus maybe the life of the President?"

"You are _not_ expendable," Cassandra said sternly, giving the young man the eye.

"Really?" Horace gave a small laugh. "I've devoted my life to protecting the President and his family. I'm prepared for the consequences. I don't have any family. I never got close to anyone else because of this. I _am_ expendable."

"No, you're _not_," Cassandra wasn't really sure why she was arguing with Horace over his self importance.

Horace rolled his eyes, with some slight difficulty. "Who will miss me? Will, maybe. That's it."

"I would," Cassandra said quietly, looking down at her hands. Horace was silent, but Cassandra didn't dare venture a look up. This definitely didn't work like the movies. Usually the girl confessed her undying love to the guy, then the guy would sweep in and they'd kiss and live happily ever after. That didn't exactly work in their situation. It just made things even more awkward.

Needless to say, Cassandra hated chick flicks. They made her uncomfortable, almost.

**I never really planned on Cassandra and Horace getting so injured. Oh, well. **

**So Cassandra kinda tells Horace her feelings. In a normal person way. And Horace reacted in a normal person way.**

**I honestly can't watch chick flicks. I have to leave the room at certain points, even though I know everything is going to end up perfect.**

**Kinda crappy but I'm exhausted, so whatever. **

**Review, please! They make me happy!**

**-Silver out.**


	12. Chapter 12

**I have no idea what to do with this chapter...**

**I know Lord Anthony was the spokesperson dude for Duncan, and Tyler was actually a baron, but I was running out of people.**

**Disclaimer: Will does not belong to me. All I own is two bookcases of books.**

Chapter Twelve

Duncan viewed the people in his office. Of course, there was Representative Arald, Commander Rodney, and General David. In addition to those three, the CEO of the ISD; Tyler Ruman, Emerick Wessler; Chief of Police, and Agent Anthony; head of the Royal Guard- the security service for the President, dating back to the days of royalty- were present. It made for quite a crowded room.

"So," Duncan began, "As some of you may know, this meeting was called to discuss what actions to take against the Ranger Corps."

There were small cries of surprise from Wessler and Anthony, who had no idea that the Rangers still existed. Arald, Rodney, and David, of course, had known previously and the novelty had worn off. Interestingly enough, Tyler did not act as surprised as the others. However, he did crinkle his eyebrows in confusion.

"Why are you so sure?" he asked the president.

Duncan raised an eyebrow. "Were you not aware that it was the Corps who successfully infiltrated your headquarters?"

The man shook his head. "No, we knew, but we didn't keep any updated files on them due to the risk."

"So you knew they were still around but you didn't tell anybody?" Arald asked, his voice hardening.

Tyler raised his hands up in a small gesture of innocence. "We knew we could never completely destroy a force as dominant as them, so we focused our attention on more important matters. We kept the occasional tab on them, though."

"But those tabs were only what they wanted us to know," Duncan pointed out.

"Let's not fight about this," Anthony intervened. "What I'm more interested in is what you mean by 'actions to take against the Rangers'?"

"Well," Rodney began explaining for Duncan, "first they broke into the Intelligence Building, and right now, they are the only lead we have as to where Cassandra is."

"And my youngest employee," Anthony muttered.

"He knew the risks," Wessler pointed out.

"But that doesn't mean he was supposed to go and get kidnapped," Anthony growled. It was impressive, Duncan mused, that they had gotten this far with out an explosion of some sort. These six men reacted like a chemical experiment when forced to work together. All were polar opposites, if there was a magnet with five poles (Rodney and David thought along the same lines).

"I think the real question is why Cassandra's protection force contained only one man, and he was only barely of age," Tyler joined in.

Rodney rose halfway out of his seat, leaning across the table to glare at Tyler. "That young man is very accomplished and more than up to the job," he said forcefully. Rodney felt a sort of connection to Horace, since he had trained the boy in the beginning, then convinced him to join the Royal Guard instead of the army.

"Tyler has a good point, though, why was such a young person put in charge of the president's daughter?" Arald said.

All looked at Anthony, who raised his hands in self defense. "I was not in charge of appointing the agent. I have no control over that, either."

"Well who does?" Wessler asked snarkily.

"I think this all smells very fishy," David warned, raising his voice over the other arguing men.

"Of course it smells fishy!" Wessler exclaimed. "How do we know this isn't some concotion made up by the President's party? That this isn't just one big ruse to secure his position in office?"

"_He_ is right here," Duncan said loudly. He felt like sighing. The Chief of Police was always wary of politicians and the underhand workings of politics. He preferred in-your-face, physical tactics. Duncan sometimes wondered if that wasn't the best course of action.

This time, Rodney did rise fully out of his seat. "One big ruse from Duncan? Do you hear yourself? This is his _daughter_ you are talking about," he said, close to shouting.

"And my agent," Anthony added. "What would this prove?"

"Oh, no," Tyler jumped in, a maniacal grin forming on his face. "I see it now- this is all a big plan to get the ISD kicked out, too, just like the Ranger Corps. Of course- make the ISD look weak and unstable- first with the infiltration, then the kidnappings- then leak information that we have that could be used against us. And then you get your wish: we get kicked out. I'm not blind," he snarled. "I'm out of here," he headed for the door.

Duncan nodded at the security guard at the door, who locked the door, preventing Tyler from leaving. Tyler spun around, glaring at the the president. "This is not a plan to get your organization removed," he said quietly. "This is not any planning at all. I assure you nobody here was involved in the disappearance of my daughter, or Agent Horace-" he nodded at Anthony, "- I promise there is nothing that any of you don't know. Let's try to work together with this, okay? No politics. No fighting. Just a simple plan to track down the Ranger Corps and get those two kids back."

Tyler glanced at the other men: Rodney, who had sat back down, Arald, David, Anthony, and Wessler. They all seemed to silently agree to work together for the time being. Tyler hesitated, then moved back to his chair.

"Good," Duncan suppressed a sigh of relief. He caught Arald's eye, and nearly grinned. "Now. We need to find out where the Rangers operate from. What do you people know? Anything about anything about the Rangers. Just spit it out, and we'll try to piece everything together."

Everyone unconsciously looked at Tyler. He looked a little uncomfortable from all the attention. "Well," he said slowly, "We know that they've been working in the shadows ever since they were expelled. They haven't caused us any problems, until now."

"Do you know who the infiltrator was?" Duncan asked, eyebrows crinkled.

"Actually, we think we may have identified the suspect." He pulled out a touch screen, hand-held computer. The other men glanced it interestedly. They had never seen anything like it before- but then again, the ISD always had cooler, more advanced toys than everybody else. He tapped it a couple of times, then showed everyone the screen. A head shot of a young man, still in his teens, dominated the screen. He had brown hair and brown eyes, with a faint smile tugging at his lips.

"Will Treaty," Tyler said briskly. "Disappeared off the map a few years ago. Seventeen years old."

The other men studied the picture.

"They recruit that young?" Arald asked disapprovingly.

"We suspect he was about fourteen or fifteen, but yes. They're an illegal organization- they don't have to follow the same rules we do," Tyler replied.

"But he's so young," Wessler pointed out. "What do they expect them to do at that age?"

"Successfully break into a government building," Tyler muttered, "but they obviously know what age they can start recruitment. It isn't the first time the Rangers and the Araluen government haven't seen eye-to-eye."

Sadly, that was true. The Ranger Corps and the government had a love-hate relationship, and multiple times in the past the secretive agency had been suspended.

"But what about his family?" Duncan asked.

Tyler shrugged. "Doesn't have any. His parents died when he was still an infant. He grew up with multiple foster parents, continuously getting in trouble."

"Let's focus on ethics another time, shall we?" Anthony tried to bring everyone back on track. "What else do we know?"

"They obviously have a mole in the government. How else would they have known how to get past all the security we have?" Arald said.

"But where? They'd have to be high up, or been in the business for a long time," Duncan countered.

Wessler grunted. "Would they have to be related to a Ranger?" He raised an eyebrow at David.

David raised an eyebrow back. "I'll have you know that I haven't corresponded, or even _seen_ my son in years. And you have the nerve to accuse me of being a mole? Obviously you have no understanding of the workings of people higher up than you."

Wessler opened his mouth to argue, but Duncan cut him off. "Leave it," he sighed. "General David just returned from a six month tour halfway across the world. He couldn't be."

How do you know the Rangers kidnapped Cassandra?" Anthony asked.

Duncan looked up. "We don't," he said shortly. "We just said they're the only lead we have right now. We never said they actually did it."

The seven men reached a lull in the conversation as they digested all of the information thrown at them in a short amount of time. It was broken by Arald.

"Does anybody have any idea where they _are_?"

That was greeted with more silence. Arald nodded.

"Okay."

A few minutes later, Duncan spoke up. "We'll have to do a thorough search of the the entire country. David and Rodney, comb through all of your bases and their surrounding towns. Wessler, check your men and then see if you can scrounge out any information. Anthony, see if you can find the mole. And lock down the security. Double check _everything_ and don't let anyone unauthorized gain access to private areas. Tyler, send out a couple of teams to cover the rest of the towns. And have your tech force see if they can find out anything on their computers. Arald, see if you can find the mole in any of the politicians."

The men nodded, processing what they would have to do. All had made it to the top because they were remarkable in what they did. Duncan knew they would get the job done.

"What about you?" Arald asked.

"I'm going to the Celtic Council Triumvirate Conference on Friday and see if I can glean any information from our neighbors."

_With Gilan and Will_

Gilan and Will's plan to track down Horace's phone was successful, to a certain point. The found the phone in a discarded pickup truck, under a rough blanket. It had most likely been forgotten by the captors.

Currently, the two Rangers leaned against Blaze, thinking.

"They probably came here and performed a tuck-and-roll," Gilan thought out loud.

Will sent his friend a queer glance. "Tuck-and-roll?" he repeated, turning the statement into a question.

"Yeah. You know, they changed cars. Quickly. They tucked and rolled from one automobile to another. Tuck-and-roll."

Will made a small _ah_ sound. "I see. And then what?"

"Well, then they continued in the other car or truck to their final destination. This truck proved a liability because people had probably already seen it. But the cell phone was probably an accident."

"The question is, though, where did they head after this?" Will built on Gil's idea.

The two were silent for a minute, before Gil answered. "Well, unless they were stupid, they wouldn't have continued in the same direction. They don't strike me as stupid, so I'm guessing they backtracked and circled around before continuing to where they wanted to go."

"Unless," Will countered, "They thought that if someone was following them, they'd assume they wouldn't go in the same direction, so they did go in the same direction. It would be a case of _they think I'll think that they'll do A, so they'll do B because I wouldn't think they'd think of that, but then because I might think I know what they're thinking, they'll do A after all, because I wouldn't think they'd think of that_."

"Excuse me?" Gilan's eyebrows were practically one line.

Will drew in a big breath, before letting most of it out. "I think they may have gone in the same direction after all."

Gil cocked his head. "It's possible." He grinned at Will. "You do realize there's only one way to figure this out, right?"

"Split up?" Will offered.

Gil rolled his eyes. "Consult the Conscience. Duh."

"Right," Will breathed, nodding slowly. "Do I have to?"

Gil smirked evilly. "You offered to wear the ear piece."

"You suck," he muttered, before turning the chip on. "Hey, Halt? Lucas?"

There was a moment of silence, before Halt answered. "I thought we'd been ditched on a side road."

"Don't worry, the thought occurred more than once. You're not losing your touch. Yet." Will replied cheerfully.

"I'm touched," he said dryly.

"Well, anyway, Gil and I needed your expertise."

"Do I want to know why?" Halt asked tiredly.

"We have a slight problem," Will continued, ignoring his mentor's tone. "We found the truck that they were originally in, but we don't know where they went after that. We have two options: continue the way they were originally headed, or find a different place."

"Will," Halt said in a weary voice, "Those are the _only_ two options."

"Exactly. That's why we need your expertise."

"What does Gilan say?"

"I dunno. Let me check." Will looked up at Gil. "What do you think we should do?"

Gil gazed down the empty dirt road in the countryside. "I think we should ask Halt."

"He says we should ask you," Will conveyed to Halt.

Halt was silent for a minute. "You don't want to underestimate these men, but you don't want to overestimate them, either. It's possible they're not as bright as we like them to think. Think as if you were in their shoes. What would you do?"

Will frowned. If he had just kidnapped the president's daughter... "I would want to get the hell out, and not worry about covering my tracks so much. That would imply going the the same direction."

"Then that's your best bet, right now. If you don't find any traces of them, then you'll have to retrace your steps. Remember, they may have left the car there to trip you up."

"Okay. Thanks, Halt."

Will looked up at Gilan, who was watching him curiously.

"Well?"

Will held out his arm to link up with Gilan's. "Off to the the Wonderful Wizard of Oz we go."

**That's a nice, normal length chapter for you. And we got a little Will and Gilan in there- yay! **

**I honestly didn't expect the meeting earlier in the chapter to turn into a giant argument. It just kinda happened. **

**But whatever, REVIEW!**

**-Silver out.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Thanks for all the reviews :D**

**Now we get to meet Alyss and her role in the story...**

**Disclaimer: Ranger's Apprentice does not belong to me.**

Chapter Thirteen

Alyss Mainwaring strode into the the home of the Diplomatic Corps, more commonly referred to as the Peace and Relations Center, or PRC. Her shoes made a satisfying clicking sound on the shiny black marble floor. Workers scurried around, performing tasks- some of which were keeping Araluen from going to war with at least a dozen countries.

Alyss paid them no mind, nodding to the ground floor secretary before entering one of the glass elevators. She remembered not to look down through the glass floor, for fear that she would fall. She pressed the button for the sixteenth floor.

Alyss exited the elevator at the correct floor and entered the office of Pauline. Alyss had been lucky enough to land an internship with the Diplomatic Corps, and had been even more elated when Pauline had requested to take her under the diplomat's wing. In the political world, the head of the Corps was known for her abilities to take control of any situation. Alyss hoped she could be like the dignified woman when she was old enough to get a job in the Diplomatic Corps.

Pauline looked up when Alyss entered, and smiled.

"Hello, Alyss, dear," she greeted.

"Morning, Pauline," Alyss replied. She sat down at the desk and stared at the pile of papers sitting there, waiting to be filed. The Diplomatic Corps had its perks, but it also had its downfalls. Paperwork, for one.

Alyss hadn't gotten far into the work before the office door opened, to reveal none other than President Duncan. She glanced up curiously, but looked back down when Duncan passed her to move on to Pauline.

Pauline stood up and shook the president's hand. "President," she greeted. "What brings you here?"

"Pauline," Duncan inclined his head slightly. "I was wondering if I could discuss something with you. I know you are going to the conference on Friday, but I would like to talk to you in private."

Alyss could feel a pair of eyes on her back, but she dutifully kept her head down. She heard Pauline reply, "Oh, Alyss isn't a threat. She won't say anything. A true diplomat, if I've ever met one. You can say whatever you want around her."

"Alright," Duncan nodded. He continued in a quieter tone. "I'm sure you've heard about my daughter."

"Oh, yes, it's very terrible."

"And the Intelligence Building."

"Of course," Pauline replied clamly.

"I've talked to the others- David, Rodney, Ruman, Wessler, Anthony, and Arald. They're going to see if they can uncover a mole."

"Very well. Is there anything you wish me to do?"

"I was wondering if you could get in touch with some of your contacts, and see if they heard anything. On either accounts. The ISD, or Cassandra and Horace."

Pauline nodded. "I believe that may be possible. I'll get back to you if I find anything out."

Alyss' ears perked up. Horace sounded familiar. She searched her mind for where it came from. School? Extracurriculars? Family? Friend?

It came to her so quickly, it was like a damn had opened up in her mind. Horace had been a boy in middle school, a couple of years ago. They had parted ways, and she never heard of him again. But that seemed irrelevant to the situation. Many people were named Horace, it wasn't an uncommon name. And the chance that the well-built boy had become a Royal Guard was close to nil.

Even so, Alyss couldn't satisfy her curiosity. Now she really wanted to know what happened to that boy. She waited while the president left, closely followed by Pauline who told Alyss she was going out to meet someone for an early lunch. Then she turned back to her computer and searched _Horace Altman_ on the Internet.

Alyss sat back in her chair as the results for her search sprang up. Articles on the two missing young adults appeared, one after another. She would have never, in a million years, thought that the Horace Altman she once knew (if not well) was the same Horace Altman that had been shot and kidnapped.

Her curiosity piqued, Alyss tried to remember the others in her class all those years ago. There had been Jenny, who was now a prestigious chef running a bustling restaurant downtown. George had entered a law school that accepted young people- Alyss had talked with him occasionally. And then there was Will.

Alyss had never really thought about Will- he had always been the small, mischievous boy that many tolerated but didn't particularly like. But now, as she racked her brain for any memories of what he had done after they parted ways, she realized that there was nothing.

Alyss typed in Will's name into the search bar and waited for the results. She was slightly disappointed when very few results containing Will showed up. The others were other people or phrases.

Alyss clicked on the first website, which linked her to an ISD file. There was very little on it. Simply a name, date of birth, and general description. There was nothing that Alyss didn't already know. She scrolled down to the bottom of the page. In capital letters, it read CONTINUING INFORMATION CONFIDENTIAL. Alyss bit her lip. Should she try and continue her search? What if there was something she didn't want to know?

Alyss bit her lip. Maybe this was a link to Horace. Maybe they still knew each other. Or maybe Alyss' imagination was just running away and blowing things out of proportion, creating connections where there weren't. She bit her lip and closed the window.

Almost on cue,the phone rang. Alyss jumped in her seat, wondering if anybody had caught her searching the two people. She picked up the phone.

"Peace and Relations Center," she quipped, falsely cheery.

"Is this Alyss Mainwaring?" a male's voice came from the other end of the line.

"May I ask who is speaking?" she replied, getting nervous. Most people who called wanted Pauline, not her. And very few knew that she had an internship here.

"This is a friend of Representative Morgarath. We believe we have some information you may find useful. Meet us in the Crow Tavern tonight a six o'clock." There was a click, and the line was dead.

Slightly in shock, Alyss slowly placed the phone back in the cradle. She tried to forget what had happened and went back to her work.

Not even an hour later, the office door opened yet again. Alyss' heart stopped for a second, thinking that the man that had called had come.

However, Alyss recognized the man who entered. It was Tyler Ruman, head of the ISD.

"Pauline is currently out, she will return in a short time," Alyss told him in a monotone voice.

"I'm not here for Pauline," the man said seriously. Alyss glanced up.

"Not you, too?" she asked.

"What do you mean, not you too?" Tyler asked.

"Oh," Alyss felt her mouth go dry. "Nothing. Is there something you need?"

Tyler sat down in the chair on the opposite side of Alyss' desk. "A short while ago, you visited our website to look up a file on Will Treaty, correct?" he asked. Alyss nodded slowly. "We'd like to ask you some questions about your knowledge on the subject."

_In a downtown cafe_

Pauline viewed the man sitting across the small table. He wasn't impressive, by any means. But there was a certain amount of gruffness that appealed to Pauline.

"Why are we here?" Halt asked, sipping his coffee.

Pauline gave Halt a calculating look. "We need to appear inconspicuous," she replied. "And I get the feeling that I'm being watched. We couldn't meet back at your place or headquarters."

"Don't you think they would recognize me?" Halt asked with a touch of sarcasm. "Unless they've forgotten me that quickly."

"It was the lesser of two evils," Pauline replied briskly. "Now can we get down to business?"

Halt sipped his coffee, watching the elegant woman over the brim of his cup. He swallowed and put the cup down. "Okay," he said. "What do you need to know?"

"I need to know whatever you know about the recent events happening."

"Well," he said carefully, "we take full blame for the infiltration."

Pauline nodded. "I thought so. The evidence gave it away, anyway. But what do you know about Horace and Cassandra?"

Halt's expression darkened. "That's what we're working on. We've ruled out any foreign schemes, if that helps. I've got Will and Gilan in the field, and Lucas on tech. We got a lead, and we think we're on the right track. Why?"

Pauline took a minute to memorize all that information. "Duncan talked to me today. He's got everybody out looking for a mole. He doesn't know that the mole is currently with his daughter, but that's another matter. He wanted to know if I could get a lead. I figured I would come to you."

"So what are you going to tell him?"

Pauline sipped her tea. "Ill tell him that this isn't international. And that this whole ordeal might be ending soon."

"That doesn't seem like much," Halt began to say, when he was interrupted by his comms unit. "Excuse me," he told Pauline, and pulled out his phone. He pretended to answer it, so people wouldn't look at him like he was crazy when he started talking into his comms unit.

"_I've got something_," Lucas' voice was loud and clear.

"Talk to me," Halt demanded.

"I'm listening," Will chimed in.

"I got some activity on the ISD. It looks like they're sending someone over to the PRC. This started after someone visited their website. Someone named... Alyss Mainwaring."

Halt looked at Pauline. _Alyss Mainwaring_? He mouthed. He was fairly certain that Alyss was her intern.

"What?" Will's voice sounded shocked.

"_Yeah, she looked up a file on you,_" Lucas replied. "_Why, do you know her_?"

Halt's brow furrowed.

"Yeah, we went to school together once upon a time."

"Do you think she knows anything?" Halt asked.

"_It's possible. Why else would they take an interest in her_?"

"Will, how's your search going?" Halt asked his apprentice.

"We've kind of reached a dead end. Any leads would be great right about now."

Halt made a split second decision. "Okay. You and Gil go find Alyss and find out what they wanted from her. See if she knows anything about this. Lucas, keep watching them. I want no surprises. We're treading _very_ thin ice right now." He received a chorus of yeses before the line went silent again.

"What just happened?" Pauline asked, concerned.

"Your intern is Alyss Mainwaring, right?"

Pauline nodded. "Yes, why?"

Halt took a deep breath. "Because the Intelligence and Surveillance Division just took an interest in your intern. If I were you, I wouldn't go back there any time soon."

**How was that? Good? Bad? Things are about to get crazy as we near the end of this story * sob ***

**The detail might be a bit lacking in this chapter, and for that I'm sorry. I kept getting distracted by videos... damn YouTube.**

**Anyway, don't forget to review!**

**-Silver out.**


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